


basic mind

by hingabee



Series: basic space [3]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Child Murder, Choking, Dissociation, Emetophobia, Explicit Gore, Eye Trauma, Flashbacks, Hospitals, M/M, Mindbreak, Misgendering, More tags and characters to be added, Other, Surgery, Torture, clichee dream sequences, delicious cake!!!, explicit rape and torture, force feeding ? i suppose, hair cuts, like actual murder. they kill people., mentioned animal cruelty, mentioned necrophilia, ocelot texas ranger, ocelots bad fashion, ocelots fun makeovers, shady x files facilities, slight dubcon, suicidal impulses, terrible ways of dealing with ptsd, there be hornys, various gross stuff w bodily fluids, why respect peoples personal boundaries when you can just be a psychic and ignore them all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee
Summary: I should have been here sooner.Mantis says in his head and Eli knows that he does not mean the hospital when a wave of regret and anger tries to worm its way into his mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> liquid comes home, mantis takes care

"Again with the god damn baby food? Please tell me you have at least _something_ edible on that tray of yours there." He sniffs. "I need to eat real food every once in a while too, y'know?"

The nurse looks at him the same way she always does; a mixture of fondness and pity in her watery eyes as she pours him a cup of tea and places the steaming can beside his bed. 

"I'm afraid I don't, honey." she says and Eli balls his hands into fists; trapped underneath the stiff bedding and hooked up through his veins to an IV bag. "You need to build up your fat reserves again and this porridge has been specifically prepared for your nutritional needs! So please; eat up and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

Eli stares at the tray on the bedside table with disgust; at first he had eaten everything they had put in front of him without any complaints; finally being able to put actual food into his mouth after being fed through a tube for the better part of a week, but that had quickly changed because even if he did not particularly care for the taste; being able to actually _chew_ on something solid for once had become his most daring fantasy at this point. 

"Can I at least get my medication early then? I'm in real pain, you see." With a pitiful expression and an overly dramatic quivering lip Eli pouts up at the nurse and rewards her with a winning smile when she rolls her eyes and obliges. 

Getting high on painkillers is all there is left for him nowadays apparently; a steady match of slipping in and out of consciousness; the afternoon drags on endlessly and between blurred but still painfully realistic dreams Eli watches the cracks in the ceiling's yellowish-white paint spread further from one corner to another. 

He is almost inclined to prefer those dreams over being awake though; hiding and suffering in his sleep is way easier than being confronted head on with the physical reminders of what happened; when the big and more motherly of his two nurses comes to wash him and makes him raise his hospital gown to expose his emaciated body and his still well visible ribs. The mortified glances the other nurse steals him upon reading his patient file; Eli still wants to yell and threaten her for so much as daring to pity him, but his throat is way too dry and his voice still weak after screaming for so long; and she herself is just a mousy girl who can not possibly be much older than him anyway.

They try to get him to do therapy; he accepts the physical begrudgingly and ignores any shrink his officers - if they still can be called that - send after him. 

When he gets a notice that announces his promotion to lieutenant; a way of thanking him for his "honourable service" of the past three years; he gets so angry that he tears the letter apart and hurls himself out of bed; ripping out the tubing from his IV bag before trying to punch the poor little cadet tasked with delivering the message of his promotion. 

The hospital staff learn that, despite his meager form and weight, it takes _a lot_ of sedatives to get him to calm down.

  
  
One day when he is peacefully munching away on his breakfast suddenly it is as if there had been a grenade exploding right next to his head; a fuzzy high pitched sound fills his mind and for a moment he can neither see nor move before it all just stops as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened at all.

He ignores the raised eyebrows of his nurse as he drops his spoon into his bowl and carelessly sets it aside before grabbing the pole holding his IV bag to drag himself from the bed to the door of his room. 

"Where do you think you are going now, dear?" The nurse scolds him from her chair but Eli is out in the hallway before she can even get up and follow. With an almost manic determination he makes his way over the cold linoleum and follows that _pull_ while almost knocking down another patient standing in his path. 

For once he is not incredibly hyper focused on the fact that his body looks like a skinny rag doll someone has thrown out on a field and left to rot; his bandaged bruises and wounds and his broken foot not slowing him down one bit despite the distant sensation of pain buzzing in his limbs. 

Then he spots the reason for his escape standing right in front of him underneath the clinical light and feels panic rise in his chest because he does not know how to react or proceed. But then the figure gets closer and Eli lets out an undignified noise of desperation before collapsing against the person's chest. 

He is held up by surprisingly strong arms and feels the plastic filter of a gas mask rest on his head. 

_Idiot. You should have stayed in bed._

"Shut up... ." He sobs against Mantis' collar but lets himself be dragged back to his room without any protest where the alarmed nurse welcomes her runaway patient with delight. 

Mantis takes place at his bedside and after some discussion they are finally left alone; Eli in his overwhelmed state can barely form coherent sentences as he grabs uselessly at his blanket. 

"I knew you would come for me." He finally breathes; bitterness mixing with relief and affection as he turns his head away to hide the obvious emotion that spills over regardless and he can hear; _feel_ ; Mantis sigh when he reaches out to hold Eli's shaking hands still in his own. 

_I should have been here sooner._ Mantis says in his head and Eli knows that he does not mean the hospital when a wave of regret and anger tries to worm its way into his mind. 

He barely notices the hiss of pain as he clutches Mantis' hand a little bit too hard while trying not to scream or strangle him right there.

"I was in there for _three_ years. ..." He mumbles and feels sick to his stomach; unable to process the amount of emotion pouring in and out of him all of a sudden, after weeks of not being able to feel a god damn thing. His fingers twitch underneath the sheets and he finally manages to turn his head and look Mantis straight in his stupid masked face. "I laughed at their faces every day telling them you would come and get me. Hell, I was convinced of it myself." He shakes his head. "So 'sooner' really doesn't do _shit_ for me now, Mantis."

Fuck, the last time Eli uttered that name it had not been more than a whimpering plea.

For a very long moment Mantis does not say anything, his fingers unmoving in Eli's angered grasp, until he finally shakes his head and stares at the blank wall as he speaks; his voice broken and barely audible. 

"We- ... I have been looking for you ever since you went missing." He coughs and Eli glares at him with suspicion in his eyes. "But if I had just delved into the Middle East by myself the chances of finding you would have been abysmal; that is why I went to America to build up some... connections." 

There is a clear hesistant strain in those words, despite them all being chosen with careful deliberation. 

"So you defected?" 

Mantis makes a small noise of amusement at that and turns back to Eli; a nostalgic glint in his eyes, even if barely visible through the tint of lenses.

"I have no loyality to spare for a country. There is more important aspects to identity than ancestry and feeble politics." 

The tired buzz of their connection startles them both a little; finally their minds are falling into place, dusting off the delicate molts that shaped them so long ago in the process. 

Eli leans back with a heavy sigh and lets go of Mantis and; despite knowing the answer already; asks quietly where his sympathies have shifted to then. A stabbing pain runs through his legs up all the way into his lower body and the burn of Mantis staring at him makes it somehow worse even.

_Nothing has changed, Eli._ says Mantis to the broken skeleton of a man in front of him, while being fully aware that this is essentially a lie for the both of them, and takes Eli's hand back in to his own, squeezing it a bit more forcefully this time. 

  
  
He throws up three times before the plane even leaves the ground and they actually have to call the stewardess to get him more paper bags before Eli empties his stomach on Mantis' lap. 

When she asks if he usually experiences sickness on flights it takes a lot of calming whispers from Mantis to get Eli to not jump the poor woman right there. 

"I'm a pilot, for fucks sake!" He grumbles into the collar of the way too loose jacket they had gotten him before their departure. "I don't get sick from sitting in god damn plane!" 

Beside him Mantis shifts in his seat and leans on his arm to look out of the window and Eli can not help but marvel at how much his friend has changed over the years. He is still tall and lanky, all right; and way too skinny to be bitching over Eli's weight anyway; but his entire composure has changed somehow and even crouched into a tiny plane seat like this he seems very intimidating. His neatly cut, short curls are probably the most drastic difference though because the lack of the cheeky bounce of his once messy mop of hair is painfully obvious and Eli self-consciously runs his fingers through his own hair that is in desperate need of getting trimmed. 

Well at least _he_ is not the one that is dressed like a damn accountant. 

_You insisted on being healthy enough to leave the hospital so you have no right to complain now, Eli._ Mantis remarks dryly and generously ignores the offending thoughts concerning his choice of wardrobe. _I still think you should have stayed and waited until you had physically recovered completly, you are just putting yourself at unnessecary risk here._

"I am perfectly fine, thank you very much." Eli snaps and tries to will down the nausea rising in his throat, though he can not help but smile at the awkwardly comfortable banter between them. 

Things had been weird back at the hospital; Mantis visited every day for as long as he could but really the stiff contact after such a long time was draining for the both of them, even if they had managed to sneak in a few overnight stays despite the nurses' constant hovering. 

There had not been a lot of talking mostly with Eli still being far too exhausted to stay awake for longer periods of time, but when Mantis finally had declared that he would have to leave again soon Eli had insisted on tagging along.

So that was how he ended up barfing his brains out on a passenger flight to Washington, DC. 

_It's the medication that is causing this, if you are so concerned about that._

A light turbulence hits the plane and Eli instinctively clings to Mantis' side for a second, too exhausted to be embarrassed about his apparent admitted weakness, though Mantis does not seem to be to keen on the contact anyway and shakes him off when the retching starts again. 

"Aren't the drugs supposed to help me, or something?" says Eli after abusing another paper bag and glares at the other passengers. "If all they wanted was to get me high they could've just put me on something stronger in the first place." 

_You will be reducing your dosage gradually in the next few weeks. I do not want you to get addicted._

The resigned tone of voice Mantis is using frustrates Eli a little but he just angrily shakes his head and hides his face in the ugly seat to pout and wait for sleep to catch up with him. 

To his own surprise he is not really sure if he is happy or even just relieved, really. Being out of he hospital; out of _that place_ ; is great, sure, and not having to bum around all by himself is nice too, Eli supposes. But Mantis presence at his side feels less... comforting and more threatening than anything else at this point really; and _both_ of them being aware of this does not exactly defuse the situation either. 

Whenever he turns to peek at Mantis from the corner of his eye he is met with the same apathic but calculating stare and in the end turns away completely to press his burning eyes shut. 

When sleep finally takes over, Eli has already departed on his own. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli remembers, mantis protects

The monotone movement is probably the worst part of it, but despite the ugly sound of naked skin sliding over dirt and stone and the fact that his face is pressed against the ground so violently that he can barely breathe, he tries to embrace the moment as reality.

Trying to run away has never turned out well for him before. 

At this point the line between pain and shame and fear is so blurred that he barely notices it when someone gently pushes his matted hair out of his face and tells him that he might as well start enjoying it this; it will be over soon. 

They have long realised that using their own bodies to torment him is not enough to satisfy their boredom, so when they start holding him down to pour hot, bitter liquid onto his face that burns in his eyes; when they push little stones and dirt up his nose and ears and mouth and all the other places that have previously been violated he accepts it with the grace of a man that embraces his nearing death like a loved one. 

But still the cracking and scratching noises he has to listen to when he is beaten with a metal rod are joined by his hoarse screaming when it is pushed into him; the sharp, rough end of it breaking flesh and skin and makes him bleed and he knows that only because he can feel the fluid run down his thigh.

Ah, and his face is wet too.

The hand on his neck has blunt nails but they dig into his scalp anyway and scratch and pull and warm breath sprayed with little drops of saliva run down his shoulders and join the sweat on his back to make him shudder in agony.

Somehow it really does not stop tonight.

They just keep going and when he is forced to look down at his own body; ribs sticking out into the stuffy air and a half hearted erection being coaxed up between his legs by dirty fingers; he lets himself be called a whore and spat in the face and the broken moans and cries that echo through the the little makeshift holding cell must come from some kind of sick and hurt animal, because no human could possibly produce the sounds hes being forced to listen to. 

He has always hated being made fun of; being laughed at; people pointing at his face and ridiculing him; and really, this makes it all worse than the pain and the fact that he has not eaten in over a week and can not remember the last time the little bits of half digested, mouldy food did not leave his body through his mouth to splatter onto to the ground. 

Then they would force him to eat it again or sleep in it and even if he barely cared about smelling of shit and piss and semen the stench of acidy vomit clinging to his skin; burning and dropping from his nostrils; is so terribly nauseating and _humiliating_ that he has to look one of them in the eyes and wordlessly plea for mercy. 

But of course that will not work this time and when that name; the only thing to grant him a little comfort and escape from this; reigns over his mind and spills from his lips as they fuck him against the grimy wall he is violently slammed into the dirt and beaten until he can not remember his his own.

He can not stop saying it though and arches his back into the pain as he finally has that repulsive and shameful relief wash over him; is made to lick up his own ejaculate from the ground, sand sticking to his tongue when he mindlessly whines and pleads to be freed; held close and be forced to choke out that name again until he can not walk anymore.

And right now he is _so_ close already.

  
"Mantis!" 

Eli gasps and stares up at the silhouette above him, eyes wide and his hair sticking to his face drenched in cold sweat. 

_Shh, it is alright Eli. You are safe now._

It takes him way too long to realise what those words mean but he still listens to his own humiliating sobs as he shakes his head in his defeated disbelief and touches the gas mask covering Mantis' face. 

It looks so different from the old one though and for a second Eli fears that this is the wrong person; they have been looking for a prisoner but he can not possibly be that one; it is a mistake and he shrinks back down to the wall and mumbles useless apologies into his shoulder. 

_No, I am here for you, nobody else. You need to breath and calm down._

Mantis' voice is soothing inside his head and he slowly dares to lean into the offered touch; arms wrapping around his shoulders and gloved fingers gently wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

"I k-knew you would come for me, Mantis. Oh god, you're actually here... ." 

Even if Mantis' embrace is not particulary warm, Eli can not help but bury his face in the the fabric of his weird clothing and wipes his snot and tears off while gasping for air. 

For a moment Mantis pauses. 

_Eli... . We are not in Iraq. We are still on the plane to Washington._

Eli looks around and finally registers the people around him; the smell of sweat and niffy seats accompanied by the tired chatter and snoring of a typical bored economy class boarding a flight to the States. 

"Oh." Is all he can say to that and lets go of Mantis before slinking back into his seat to stare at the ceiling; breath and heart rate still going uneven enough to make him able to see the little colourful dots dancing in front of his eyes. 

Mantis sits down beside him again, eyeing him carefully through the lenses of his mask and Eli feels like he is going to burst from the amount of focus put on him. 

_I am sorry._

Eli scoffs. 

"I'd prefer if you didn't look into my head like its a fucking newspaper, yknow'? This does not concern you."

_How does it not concern me when you literally project your dreams onto me?_ Mantis is pissed off now and the leftover bit of gentle comfort dissolves without either of them trying to restore it. _Am I supposed to just let you scream my name for five minutes straight on a plane full of people? I am already using up my powers to keep attention away from us and now you expect me to just let you limp around with your head full of... ._ He makes some vague motions with his hands before deciding to speak out loud. 

"Full of _this_?" 

Mantis is gesturing at him. 

Something in Eli's mind snaps and he can see in Mantis' eyes that _he_ notices too before he decides to jump up and hobble away into the direction he assumes the bathroom to be located at. 

_Stubborn idiot._ Mantis provides in his mind but Eli ignores him generously and finally slams the bathroom door behind him after what seems like an endless walk of shame in front of dozens of curious eyes.

Sure, suits Mantis just fine to keep attention off himself while not bothering that Eli is literally looking like some kind of old horror movie ghoul himself right now. 

He actually vividly remembers watching _The Night Of The Living Dead_ together with Mantis years ago; huddled close next to each other on an old couch and eating stolen candy while being uncomfortably aware of how nice it felt to have someone hide their face in your shoulder in gleeful fear while giggling and squeaking like schoolgirls.

God, that was so long ago now though, was it not? 

Eli tries to ignore the phantom sensation of hands running down his neck and back; pushing and puling at him in their sick lust and desire to inflict harm, and has trouble calming his breathing as it speeds up again. 

In the end he just stares at his sunken in face in the gungy mirror for a while before unceremoniously throwing up in the toilet.

He stays in the bathroom as long as he can and refuses to leave whenever someone knocks on the door until a flight attendant shows up and tells him that they are about to land.

Mantis does not look at him when he sits down again. 

  
"Are you fucking serious?" 

Maybe he should have phrased that differently but Eli can not even properly close his mouth when staring through the open door of Mantis' flat. _Mantis has a flat._

"You can go inside too, you know. Unless you plan on spending the rest of the night in the hallway." 

Nodding slowly, Eli awkwardly shuffles inside the alien room and clutches his bag to his chest; the place looks like an _actual person_ lives here, for fuck's sake, there even is a proper shiny kitchenette and all that.

He turns to Mantis who unceremoniously waves his hand; Eli's bag floats out of his arms and lands on the couch; and his expression must look so hilariously dumbfounded that Mantis actually snorts and puts his hand on his shoulder. 

_You must be hungry._ He thinks, swapping back to forcing his thoughts into Eli's head. 

Hungry he is, alright, but the bipolar back and forth between them; mood switching so quickly Eli barely has the chance to keep up; is exhausting him in a way that he is not used to anymore. 

"Yeah, I guess." He manages and takes a few steps further into the room to really take in all that fanciness; or well, whatever qualifies as _fancy_ for someone who spent the last few years sleeping in a puddle of his own piss and vomit on the ground. 

Then he spots the personal computer standing on a desk in a corner and turns back to Mantis because now he really can not stop himself from asking. 

"How the hell do you afford all this shit?" 

"I have a job, Eli." is the blunt answer to that though Mantis does not seem to be to keen on talking right now anyway because he disappears behind one of the two doors leading from the main room and leaves Eli to himself. 

Even if he is tempted to just follow Mantis and needle him further the insistent grumbling of his stomach has him ending up in front of the fridge. 

Aside from orange juice and what looks like to be the remnants of something that dared to call itself yoghurt once there is nothing inside, of course. Just as Eli starts digging around in Mantis' drawers for something edible he is interrupted but the man himself clearing his throat right behind him.

"I will go out and organise some food for you, Eli. You can rest on the couch and sleep off the jetlag if you like, the bathroom is right next to the entrance." 

Mantis looks like he is about to turn around or just poof out of existence but then Eli catches something in his eyes that seems like hesitance and shoves a questioning nudge in his direction, only now really becoming aware of how tired and exhausted he really is. 

Without any further conversation Mantis guides him to the couch and even kneels down to pull off his shoes for him when he could very well be just using his powers for that; Eli acknowledges that he is trying to be calming and to give him a sense of closeness and security but he really does not know how to deal with all _that_ at the moment. This stale politeness and affection does not suit either of them anymore. 

Better just pretend it is not happening at all. 

When he is tucked in underneath some woolen blanket that smells of laundry detergent and disinfectant, Mantis touch on his neck lingers for a moment before he finally disappears. 

Eli can hears the 'click' of the front door's lock all to clearly. 

He sighs. 

The couches' leather and the scratchy material of the blanket feel so surreal to him; just as the smell and visuals of the room and he quickly ends up watching the little dancing colours on the ceiling again as he expects _something_ to happen; for the world around him to suddenly warp into a tiny dark room in some abandoned compound in the Middle East, for the fabric wrapped around him to be replaced by rough, disgusting hands and as he calls that name again he waits for Mantis to come and take him away from all this shame. 

But that moment never comes, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sowwy for that one guys


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis is desperate, eli is alone

The hallway is freezing as always and Mantis wraps his coat a little tighter around himself while he checks through the security and empties his bag on the table the guard points him to.

“Uh, Sir…? I don’t believe the… mask fits the protocol. I have to ask you to take it off please.” 

Mantis looks up and raises an eyebrow at the guard; apparently he is new here because the old one barely bothered with him at this point any more.

“Oh, thank you for your concern, but I _will_ keep this on.” He smiles behind all the plastic and grabs his bag before motioning for the guy to unlock the sliding door in front of him; unsure of how to react but otherwise too intimidated to protest, the guard hurries to fumble with the remote control station and awkwardly stares at Mantis when he slips through the door as soon as it has opened far enough.

He has walked these halls many times before, yet the uncomfortable shrill sound of his shoes’ soles rubbing over the cheap linoleum tiles makes his skin crawl and Mantis anxiously tightens his grip on the leather of his bag. 

He passes a few more guards who salute him like he is some kind of person of authority and he really can not help but quietly laugh to himself about the apparent influence that little dumb piece of plastic hanging from his chest has on people around him. When Mantis had first joined the FBI with Ocelot’s _generous_ support they had been eager to take him in, considering his abilities were not exactly common ones and the added factor of him 'defecting' from the Soviet Union; despite the Cold War being officially declared over already; really made it easy to establish himself. 

The last guard in his way nods before leading him to the heavily secured cell door and Mantis feels himself shiver in anticipation as he nervously adjusts his collar one last time before finally entering.

The little chair and desk he usually takes are already arranged nicely in the middle of the interrogation cell; the lighting is terribly irritating as always and the air stuffy and nauseating; but Mantis takes seat and pulls out his written records calmly to carefully start documenting the session. 

“Agent! Oh, how I’ve missed your lovely companionship!” Mantis does not bother to look up yet and stubbornly keeps putting down details on his paper while chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You really are too kind with all those frequent visits, I really wish I could accommodate your stays further but I’m afraid that we won’t be allowed any coffee or similar dainties.”

Mantis is used to the pretentiously annoying small talk by now and takes his sweet time to finish his work before taking a deep breath and leaning back on his chair, decisively taking in the others presence with all the professional cold he can muster. 

“You look terrible, Wilson.” He always does though; the greasy hair and that stained, dark red shirt of his prison uniform; a stark contrast to his calm and slightly presumptuous attitude which never fails to irritate Mantis. 

Wilson purses his lips a little and crosses his arms, not bothering to break his attempts at eye contact at all.

“Charming as always, are we not?” Despite pretending to be distracted with his papers; probably a mistake on his part, already; Mantis can not help but gaze upwards and meet the man’s bold stare. 

“I am not here for your play-time today, we are done with that.” Mantis twists his pen around in apparent boredom and clicks his tongue. “Let’s just hope you are willing to finally make some progress.” 

The fact that Wilson just shrugs with an innocent smile dancing around his lips is frustrating enough, but the shameless way he keeps his emotions and intentions so absolutely _unguarded_ is almost something Mantis likes to take personal offence in. 

After he had taken on the task to deal with the infamous ‘Potomac Butcher’; a name so ridiculous that Mantis simply could not believe that it was not just the media that used that name for the suspect, but also the entire Behavioral Analysis Unit he was part of fretted over this particular criminal; with the subsequent consequence that his job had quickly changed and forced Mantis to spend basically all his free time on the case. 

At this point however it had become increasingly discouraging, because Wilson’s mental barrier against any and all of Mantis’ attempts to break his mind and get access to information actually important to the case had been unyielding so far. 

“Of course you aren’t!” Wilson laughs with so much heart that his face turns into a grotesque grimace of joy and he slaps his thigh as if he is some kind of slapstick cartoon character. 

Mantis presses his pen into the paper hard enough for the plastic casing around it to start cracking. 

“How about you stop this childish game once and for all and just start cooperating?” He suggests. “You already know about all of the little _accommodations_ we could offer you, but of course I can also just tell my superiors that you are simply not interested in our… “, Mantis pauses and looks up to directly meet Wilson’s eyes. “teamwork.” 

With that Wilson sits up a little more straight and crosses his legs, awarding Mantis with a smile that is just dripping with overly sweet sarcasm before his eyes widen in something akin to realisation and Mantis feels himself tense up. 

“ _Ohh_! He is back, isn’t he?” Wilson claps a few times before leaning a bit closer towards the protective barrier separating them. “I should’ve known! Just look at you!” 

Mantis really is not sure what there is to look at since he looks exactly like the last time he showed up; hell, he is probably wearing the same sweater even; but the _way_ Wilson looks at him digs up that long buried yearning to hide himself from the world. 

“You could make this so much easier for everyone involved if you would just give us the details to your initial confession. I can just go and leave you to whatever exciting afternoon program this facility offers, though.” 

Mantis starts packing his bag in his little pretense even though he knows that Wilson has got him _already_ and slowly gets up. 

“Why don’t you talk a little bit more about yourself, agent? I’m sure that if we get to know each other better we will come to an eventual agreement, no?” 

It is way harder than expected to not just snap the guy’s neck right there but Mantis head aches too much for that and he sits back down, ashamed of his apparent defeat and silently thanks the useless guard who is supposed to monitor their session from outside for doing _anything_ but his actual job right now. 

Wilson still does not bare his thoughts; only his emotions are free for Mantis to read, though he would actually prefer to not take notice of those at all; instead he looks at him with that stupid expectant grin on his face and idly starts curling strands of his messy beard around his fingers. 

For a second Mantis hesitates but then sits back down. 

“Yes,” he sighs. “he came home last night.”

The way Wilson treats this shift in dynamic is polite, he refrains from commenting on Mantis unprofessionalism further and just delves into the conversation with a genuine curiosity that makes Mantis feel incredibly uncomfortable; not because it is a person like Wilson that offers this interest but because he simply is not used to _anyone_ showing interest in him like _that_. 

“You do not seem to happy about it though.” 

Mantis snorts and looks to the side. 

“I _am_ happy. At least I think so, but I don’t really know how that works anyway.”

Wilson nods in understanding and looks at Mantis in that terrible way of his that makes him feel like _he_ definitely is _not_ the one with psychic powers here. 

“Oh, agent. Are you trying to get into philosophy with me now? I fear that someone like me won’t be able to supply a sufficient definition of happiness to you.”

Mantis bites his lip behind his mask.

“Yeah, I suppose. Someone like _you_.”

Wilson smiles kindly at him.

“Something the matter?”

Despite never having been someone to feel much grief over the violence he inflicted onto others, Mantis still feels out of place sitting on _this_ side of the interrogation cell and curls his fingers into fists in his lap as he tries to not let himself be broken down any further than this. 

“Where is the body of Olivia Faith, Gerald?” He asks instead.

A few seconds drag on endlessly and Mantis watches his knuckles turn a sickly white colour before Wilson finally does one of his little snorts and raises his voice again. 

“I thought we finally found common ground here, and now you just want to go back to all that dreadful, nasty business? That’s really unlike you, agent. You’re above this kind of discussion.” Wilson shakes his head and has this cliché sad puppy expression that really should not _ever_ show up on a middle-aged serial rapist’s face. “I do appreciate your establishment of the first name base though. Care to finally introduce yourself properly to me, then?”

Mantis growls and the lights flicker dangerously for a moment, though Wilson only looks up at the buzzing light strip on the ceiling above him before putting all his focus back on Mantis. 

_Where is the body?_ he tries again, this time directly projecting into the man’s mind.

Wilson stares at him and Mantis stares back.

He would be absolutely convinced that Wilson has heard him if it was not for the fact that there is absolutely no emotional indicator of it and there still aren’t any thoughts for Mantis to hold onto.

The crippling helplessness reminds him of his early days with Ocelot; his mind shielded so perfectly behind a wall of lies and manipulation brought upon himself that sometimes simply spending time around him had been too much for Mantis.

“Agent? Are you alright?” Wilson offers with a gentle smile.

  
Mantis almost trips over his own feet on the staircase and silently curses the dark as he unlocks the door to his apartment. The numb comfort of Eli’s waiting presence buzzing faint but steadily still feels odd and is most likely going to be a bit difficult to get used to again.

He sighs when he spots the door to his bedroom left ajar; someone clearly had first tried to break the lock in what seemed like a more delicate attempt, before giving up and just bashing it in until it budged enough to be pried open by raw force. 

_Eli._ Mantis thinks with a sharp hint to it but as he quietly enters the room it softens down a little. 

Across his bed Eli is sprawled out as if he is trying to cover as much space as possible. There is only little light forcing its way through the blinds but Mantis cant help but grin fondly at the colourful pattern dancing across the sheets and sits down on the corner of the mattress, careful not to disturb his tired friend.

“Sorry for not being back sooner… .” Mantis mumbles uselessly and watches Eli shift a bit before dropping the bag and kicking off his shoes to lay down right next to him. “I had a busy day.”

Eli is silent for a moment before grunting in acknowledgement and turning towards Mantis.

“Sorry for breaking into your bedroom. I was bored.” he offers in return.

Mantis snorts and shrugs against the pillows. 

“It’s alright, the bed should be way more comfortable than the couch anyway. It is probably better for your recovery if you sleep here from now on.” 

“With you?” Eli asks and does not even bother to hide the slight panic in his voice.

“I will just take the couch, don’t worry.” Mantis patiently waits for Eli to consider this offer and is almost relieved when he finally nods and looks at Mantis’ masked face through the darkness.

“Can you stay for now, though…? Like… just until the drugs knock me out again, I mean.” He laughs tiredly but Mantis can not really find any humour in those words.

“Of course.” He says anyway and tries to ignore the way Eli flinches when he takes his still bruised hand into his own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli sleeps, mantis is disgusting

Mantis jolts awake to the sound of his phone ringing way too loudly and quickly slides out of bed, grabbing his bag while throwing a passing glance at Eli over his shoulder; he is still thankfully asleep and tangled up in the sheets, turning and tossing in his oxycodone induced sleep.

The living room is cold and dark but Mantis hurries inside and digs out the phone from his bag before dropping it on the couch and picking up with shaking fingers.

“Do you have any idea how late it is?! I told you not to call me at night!” He snarls into the phone not bothering to hide his anger at all and adjusts the straps of his mask a little to grant himself some stability. 

“I do, actually.” Ocelot replies flatly and Mantis can not decide if he would prefer the bastard to be here; so he could pull out his brain through that ridiculous nose and have him choke on it; or let him rot forever in some shady little office on the other side of the planet. “Besides, its a lovely day where I am right now.”

Mantis grates his teeth and uses his powers to keep the phone close to his ear while stripping off his dress pants.

“What do you want then? You _know_ how busy I am at the moment, I can’t just drop everything to run and help you with your ridiculous bullshit all the time!” He pulls off his sweater and then undoes his shirt while trying really hard to not just rip the buttons straight off. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of invincible super-spy, anyway?” 

“If that is what you want to call me, fine.” There is the sound of some papers rustling and being handled over the line and Mantis tries not to snap at Ocelot for stalling him; most likely for his own depraved sense of humour. 

The floor is cold underneath his bare feet and he curls his toes and hugs himself; standing in the middle of his apartment in his underwear; and stares at the tired lights of the city outside through the window. 

“I’m not leaving D.C. at the moment. Forget about it.”

“Mantis,” the way Ocelot says his name makes him want to throw up every time. “I do not need you for anything at the moment, try to relax a little for once and just listen to me.”

He is so close to just making his phone explode into some pretty little fireworks, but that would be the _third_ unfortunate occurance of that kind, and Mantis does not like the thought of wasting more money on another one in such a short period of time.

“Relax?! Are you kidding me? I have been non stop - ” 

“ _Mantis._ This is about Eli.”

At that Mantis lets himself be willingly interrupted and sinks onto the couch, hiding his masked face behind his hand.

“Alright. I give you five minutes and then you’ll hang up and finally leave me alone for a few weeks, will you?” He exhales exhaustedly and the heavy plastic filter covering his mouth turns the sound into a rasped sigh.

Ocelot makes a noise of agreement and probably has got that smug little grin stuck to his moustache at the thought of Mantis backing down right now. 

“Very well.” He starts and Mantis swears he can hear him spin a revolver or something in the background. “How is he doing, by the way? I heard you took him America with you, a bold move in your current situation, if you ask me.” 

“I am not asking you, though.” Mantis growls and starts nervously scratching at his already red spotted, pale thighs. 

Ocelot laughs.

“Oh, I am just surprised the hospital already let him go, considering the… more than unfortunate state of his health after that botched recovery. You only got to see him in London, yes?”

That makes Mantis perk up and he almost drops the phone.

“Yes? I got there as quickly as I could but - ‘botched’? What do you mean ‘botched recovery’? 

“Oh, I assumed you had already gotten the information from Eli himself, did you manage to hold back that little, intrusive habit of yours or are you two just not connecting that well any more?” Ocelot sounds like he is telling the worlds funniest joke and Mantis digs his fingers into his legs so hard that he breaks skin.

“You do not know a single _thing_ about me and Eli – you never did, so cut it and get to the point.”

“Inpatient child.” Ocelot huffs. “But yes. The operation did not exactly work out as planned; most of the insurgents at the camp managed to escape and also Eli got heavily injured during the extraction. I am not exactly sure how our American friends managed to mess up that badly – next time I will just have to do it myself I suppose.”

With a frown Mantis shifts around on the couch cushion and tries to will away the immense waves of regret and that nagging _what if?_ at the back of his mind. 

“There won’t be a next time. I will never let Eli get harmed like that again.”

“He’s a soldier at heart. You can’t keep him away from war, as soon as he has recovered he will go back to fighting – that’s just how he was made.” 

Mantis knows about the way Eli had been conceived and his upbringing, but he still does not know _enough_ for his taste, and no matter how far he tries to push Ocelot for information, the old fuck just does not budge. 

“Eli shaped himself into the person he is. None of _you_ were involved in that process.” 

He can hear Ocelot scoff in response but chooses to ignore that generously. 

“Well, anyway, I’ve got some interesting intel on the locations of the remaining insurgents.” Ocelot pauses for a second and clears his throat. “Only if you are interested, of course.” 

It is not easy to just _take_ the underlying meaning of those words but Mantis tries to stay calm despite the heat in his chest that flares up at the mention of the people who hurt Eli.

“Fine. You know where to send it.” Mantis shakes off that shiver of dark excitement and lets his eyes wander to the open bedroom door to listen to the pained, muffled sounds coming from there for a second before reaching out to Eli’s distressed mind. “Good night, Ocelot.” he finishes coldly and hangs up; deliberately ignoring the repeatedly voiced interest in Eli’s current health. 

Mantis gets up and moves back to the bedroom as quietly as possible only to find Eli whimpering in his nightmare-ridden half sleep. 

He can not help but let out an exasperated sigh at the sight and sits down on the mattress beside his friend; gently pulls the sweaty strands of hair out of Eli’s face and watches him suffer for a bit longer with the faint hope that he will wake up by himself. 

But of course he doesn’t and Mantis has to delve into his head; his dreams; and undo the rope around his wrist, help him up and carry him out of the dark, disgusting room himself; like he _should_ have done it before. 

He lets the energy between them flow openly as he pulls Eli back into the real world and Eli jolts awake with a start; staring at Mantis with wild eyes and that senseless panic that serves as a reminder of a time where they both felt had felt very small; all while muttering something in Arabic that sounds like he is apologising to someone that is not even present.

_It is alright, Eli._ Mantis speaks into his mind. _You are safe. We both are._

Eli just shakes his head at him and babbles some incoherent things until finally calming down enough to press his face into Mantis’ chest and hold onto him with an iron grip despite the obvious nausea spilling from him because of the close physical contact.

Mantis can not help but pet his hair for a while before reaching up to undo the clasps of his mask.

“Mh, what about your headache…?” Eli inquires in the smallest voice and if the situation was not so terrible Mantis would almost consider calling his momentary docility and the fact that he actually managed to still worry about Mantis own well-being _adorable_.

_The room’s walls and ceiling are proofed with lead foil. Makes it easier to go without._ He explains and carelessly drops his mask on the floor before turning back to Eli.

They both do not say anything for a long while and Mantis almost feels as if the distance that has build up between them in time is manifesting physically right there on the mattress.

But then Eli pulls him closer, there is so much heavy hesitation in his movements and breathes against Mantis’ chest with such a guilty anxiety buzzing in his head that Mantis has to close his own eyes for a moment to process it all.

“Please don’t leave me.” Eli mumbles and if Mantis was less collected he would probably have to choke down his own emotions at that; he is fully aware that Eli is not just talking about him taking the couch for the night. “I know I’m disgusting, but don’t leave. You can’t do that to me.” 

He does not really know how to react at first; because the word ‘disgusting’ has so many images he would rather forget about climb up into his mind; but putting his hand on Eli’s waist seems to not push it too far yet and Mantis tries to at least pretend to be relaxed in the hope that it will rub off on Eli even just a little bit. 

After careful consideration he pulls Eli closer into his lap and says with the firmest voice he can manage: “You are not disgusting, not to me.” 

And _that_ is most likely the problem here.

Eli seems to be content with the reply, though, and digs his fingers deeper into Mantis’ body and mind, who smiles down at him, knowing that if one of them has to be ‘disgusting’, Eli definitely is not the culprit here. 

Still, he tries to find a comfortable position and shifts around a little, mindful not to stir Eli in his constructed peace, but the heat seething low in his stomach is almost making it unbearable to be so close, and worse, touched, while the leftover tension of Eli’s flashback stays with Mantis alone. 

The mere idea of that _vulnerability_ so close to him is almost intoxicating by itself and filtering through Eli’s mind to pull out the negative feelings; projecting them onto himself in the process; makes Mantis feel guilty in a way that is disturbingly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. 

The exhausted warmth against him is enough to make him feel stiff and probably the reason some of his obvious discomfort gets picked up by Eli too.

“Is it that bad? Do you want to leave?” He asks with the voice of a child and looks at Mantis with that innocent fear in his eyes.

“No, Eli, it’s not – you aren’t doing anything wrong.” Mantis brushes his thumb over Eli’s lips in a way too affectionate gesture. “Go back to sleep.”

The worst part is that Eli actually _does_. 

Mantis considers untangling himself from him to just disappear into the bathroom and take a cold shower, or to force himself to sleep on the couch like he had intended to originally. But the delicious warmth of another body so close to his own; as repulsive as it may be; is something he has not felt in so long that he might even could go as far to defend his own body’s reaction with that excuse. 

He tries to keep his breathing as calm as possible and swallows down every little moan that tries to sneak its way past his lips when Eli presses against his chest or hips in a way that is just _too_ hard to ignore. 

In the end Mantis finally falls asleep too; one of his hands buried in Eli’s hair, while the other is stuck snugly between his own thighs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is so very uncomfortable i am sorry if u expected this to be sweet fluff but actually all my fluff is just sad/bad shit in sheeps clothing. it was hard to write this too so im sorry because its probably even harder to read


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli is hungry, mantis gives up

“Can I have, uh, two of these little cakes, please?”

The shop assistant behind the counter eyes him with a hint of worry; which really only causes Eli to become more twitchy; but the assistant just shrugs to himself and wraps the cakes in decorative wax paper before putting them in a paper bag.

“Anything else I can get you, sir? I’d like to close shop soon.”

Eli feels mildly irritated but stares at the pastry display like a snake at its prey for a bit longer; the visual assault of sugary goods before his eyes is overwhelming enough but the smell that joins the parade of muffins and pastries makes it all too tempting. The shop assistant sighs in annoyance and Eli almost snaps at him before refocusing on his actual goal and choosing a few chocolate cupcakes and another piece of cake, then practically throws the money at the guy and flees the bakery with his face turning crimson, having to consciously remind himself to not accidentally crush his bulging bag of baked goods. 

He hurries back in the direction of Mantis’ apartment but hesitates when he passes a tiny kebab shop on his way to grab some fries, meat and salad, because he is pretty much starving and so swamped by the impulse to just spend _all_ the money Mantis had left on the night stand (for emergencies) in one go at the restaurants and hot dog stands that are waiting left and right on his way home.

There are not many people out at this time of the day; but still enough for Eli to be wary of his limp and to be hyper aware of the looks he is getting when he starts cursing to himself while trying to fish the key to Mantis apartment building out of his pockets.

Back upstairs he spreads out his delicious spoils on the couch and sits down on the carpet in front of it to just watch the food for a bit longer before finally daring to take the first bite of lemon cake. 

The frosting gets all over his face and shirt but he devours the cakes one by one before moving on to the chocolate cupcakes and digging through the wall of food as fast as he can, not even bothering when his stomach clearly signals for him to stop.

Eli feels like he has not eaten in years and is too scared to actually think about it for too long because the gnawing hunger just will not cease even though he is clearly full; staring up at the ceiling, surrounded by empty packages and crumbs. 

_I am back._ Mantis voice finally echoes in his mind when he is about to pass out into a food coma but the immediate wave of worry and slight irritation crashing into him wakes him up enough to be able to stare up at Mantis’ figure standing above him.

_Eli, I can’t believe you._

“You better start, then.” There is sugar stuck to Eli’s lips. “Because there are still some cupcakes left and if you want any you’d better hurry because I’m not planning to share.”

Mantis looks like he is fuming and throws his little man bag on a chair before shrugging of like half of his stupid monkey suit, which only causes him to look more ruffled and ridiculous anyway.

“And I am _not_ happy with the way you just – “ He cuts himself off and crosses his arms. “Eli, stop that!” 

“Why are you mad? You gave me money to spend – I spent it. Where’s the big deal?” Eli sits up a little and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and continues before Mantis can expand this into one of his hissy fits. “You were gone all day anyway! I was bored and hungry, what else did you expect me to do?!” 

To that Mantis actually _stomps_ his foot and its a bit funny considering how little effect it has.

“I _bought_ you food – there’s food in the fridge! Yet you still went and spend the money on more even though you are supposed to rest!” Eli scoffs. “And do not make that face at me, look at you; you will take forever to recover if you keep pulling this immature bullshit!”

Mantis had indeed bought food, but the weird little yogurts and soft white toast he had gotten really were not much of an improvement to Eli’s former diet, no matter how much he needed to go easy on himself now. 

For a moment Mantis stares at him and Eli can practically feel his inner defences being pulled down and touches his temple when it actually starts to _hurt_. 

“Oh, don’t complain about your head hurting now, maybe you should have told me right away! Or, I don’t know; listen to me when I tell you something.” 

There is some Russian swear words being thrown at him that only cause Eli to laugh which seems to infuriate Mantis even further as he fetches Eli’s medication from the bed room and then without further ado; tackles him on the living room carpet. 

“Get off me!” Eli snarls. “I’m not a baby, I can take them myself!” 

“Well, then why didn’t you!? I can not take care of you all day, you know!” 

Eli grins bitterly and goes for the straps of Mantis’ mask – an unfair move, but considering his current situation, his only chance of winning. 

“It’s not like you take care of me when you are here, anyway… .” He mumbles under his breath before being slammed against the couch, leaving a few of the leftovers to topple off the cushions on impact. 

Mantis makes a very ugly noise in his throat and; before either of them actually knows what is happening; raises his hand against Eli’s face as if he is about to hit him.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of neglecting you!” He yells and his voice is hoarse and shaking because he probably has not been this loud in forever. “I picked you up in London with _nothing_ , since you thought it was just fine to deny the pension they offered to you; I fed you, I clothed you, I payed for everything and now I spend every god damn night with you so don’t you _fucking_ dare to tell me I do not _care_ , Eli!” 

The sound of Mantis’ heavy breathing makes Eli sink a bit further down and he tries to look away but Mantis is covering all of his vision and drilling into his head on top of that too.

“Stop it… .” He chokes. “Stop pretending this is about _me_ – we both know you are doing this to soothe your own damn sore conscience because you were the one to let me rot in Iraq in the first place.” 

Mantis sharply sucks in a breath and Eli feels his mind vibrating with the immense pressure being put onto him. 

“See?” Eli lets out a bitter laugh. “You know I’m right yourself, so just act like it and get off your high horse for once.” 

For a long time they just stare at each other; Mantis still with his fists clenched and Eli feeling sick to his stomach from all the food and invasive tugging at his head. Then finally Mantis gives up and sinks down onto the carpet beside Eli, slowly undoes his mask and shivers slightly. 

They sit in uncomfortable silence until Eli finally breaks and picks up a only mildly squished cupcake and holds it out to Mantis who; after some slight hesitation; accepts the offer and takes a huge bite as he leans a bit closer against Eli’s shoulder. 

  
“Are you going to sleep with me again tonight?”

Mantis looks up from where he is changing the bandages on Eli’s foot. 

“ _What_?” 

Eli shrugs and pats the side of the bed.

“You know, like you did before.”

Mantis exhales and stretches his neck a little before deciding to ignore the question as long as he can but eventually he does finish bandaging Eli and gets up to leave the bedroom.

“I still have some work to do; there are a few important documents on my current case that I really need to fill out, so I am afraid I won’t be able to stay with you tonight.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m sorry, Eli.”

“No, it’s fine, really.” But it is _not_ , because the obvious disappointment and fear radiating off Eli makes it too hard for both of them to fully concentrate on their current conversation. “Are you going to have any more late-night phone calls again, though? Who were you talking to anyway, you were really… loud?” 

“Just a colleague from work, nothing to worry about.” Mantis replies carefully and looks at Eli’s exhausted expression for a little bit too long before finally turning away. “You should sleep.”

“Yes. But you stay.” 

Eli is sitting up and pulling back the sheets to get out of bed but Mantis sighs in exasperation before turning back and tugging him back in before slipping out of his own clothes, turning off the lights with a wave of his hand, and then crawling in beside Eli. 

“I see you’re still as terrible as always.”

There is a quiet chuckle next to his face. “But you like it.”

Mantis can not really deny that but yet his thoughts are racing and still stuck with the god damn case when Eli moves a bit closer to wraps an arm around him. 

“I’ve missed this, Mantis.” He says and Mantis is tempted to just blink himself out of the room at Eli’s blatant dishonesty. “I missed you.”

Mantis nods against the pillow. “You need to learn how to sleep by yourself again, Eli, you said yourself that you do not like being babied.” 

Eli does not reply but Mantis knows that he is already somewhere else and gently pulls his hair out of his face while desperately trying to avoid the internal confrontation with the fact that he too, has missed being this close to someone else. 

Even _if_ the comfort of companionship is tainted by the faint disgust seething between them. 

And of course Eli wakes soon after falling asleep with broken pleas and screams bubbling from his mouth while all Mantis can do is hold onto him like the scared and terrible child he used to be. 

When they finally manage to calm down enough to breathe he is overwhelmed by the warmth and emotion oozing off Eli and it may be because of this, that he projects his own fears and desires onto his friend. 

After uselessly searching for Mantis cold face in the dark for a while, Eli gets so frustrated he just crawls on top of him to take what he needs.

_You’re suffocating me._ Mantis thinks calmly while running his hands over Eli’s back and shoulders and lets himself be clumsily kissed and bitten; the very primal urge of physical contact pushing Eli to get closer in any way he can. 

“Please, Mantis.” Eli almost sobs against his neck. “I don’t want to be here any more, they – it hurts, please.” 

Mantis just shushes him and kisses Eli back as he flips them over; because that overwhelming craving for simple affection turns him into a terribly selfish person, and the sounds and whispers leaving Eli’s lips make him gasp shamefully when he bucks his hips against the other’s thigh. 

But Eli comes apart beneath him; still crying and begging for some person that Mantis really doesn’t know any more; yet he holds Eli close against his chest and rocks them back and forth to find at least some peace between all that fear and shame. 

Finally, after that disgustingly anxiety-laced pleasure pulls them both into a guilty calm, Mantis manages to banish Wilson’s greasy face from his thoughts and wraps his arms around Eli from behind to press a kiss against his sweaty neck. 

“Thank you.” Eli rasps sweetly, blissfully unaware of how incredibly _messed up_ the situation is making both of them feel. 

And Mantis simply nods against him and tries not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear stuff will happen soon. were gonna go down that road hard and quick :^(


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli fights, mantis takes advantage

With a heavy sigh Mantis sits down on his chair and stares at the ceiling, not even bothering to unpack the papers from his bag.

“Huh, agent, you’re walking funny today! Looks like you’ve been having some nice fun!”

He does not give Wilson the satisfaction of making eye contact and starts snapping the rubber band around his wrist, listening to the monotone sound echo through the almost empty room. Despite the fact that his skin is already raw and reddened Mantis keeps going and bites his lip as he tries to concentrate on himself and his own thoughts.

As always though, Wilson makes it difficult to do just that. 

“Well you see, I understand it has been a while and all but – aw, you’ve missed him so much – don’t you think it is a little early to push him that far? Or are you just being shamelessly selfish? I mean _I_ can’t blame you, can I?”

The lights start flickering dangerously.

“If you wish to continue working with me,” Mantis says at length and finally lets his gaze drop down to Wilson’s canting visage, trying to keep his breath steady and calm. “then you will cease this behaviour at once, you understand me?”

Wilson smiles at him warmly.

“Oh, of course I’d never wanna break off our wonderful partnership! We suit each other so well, don’t we? But the talking ‘s part of the fun, you see, you don’t wanna miss out on that, agent! It’s _so_ not like you to - “

“ _Wilson._ ” he snaps. “If you don’t shut up _now_ I will walk out of this room and not turn back and I will make _sure_ that you end up spending the rest of your pitiful, little existence rotting in this place.” Mantis snaps the rubber band so hard his skin breaks. “No death row either; a creature like you should not be awarded with mercy killing; solitary confinement in the deepest and darkest hole they can find for you down here sounds more appropriate, don’t you think?” 

For a moment Mantis is met with silence, but Wilson still has that naive, faux-friendly expression on his face; like some kind of dumb dog; just see-sawing back and forth on his chair as if contemplating his next move. 

Then finally he starts speaking and Mantis can not remember a time where his voice has sounded more cold and calculated.

“I do not think that you are in any position to do that, agent. After all you cheated your way into the FBI, didn’t you?” Wilson laughs heartily and slaps his knee lightly. “I mean, for someone with your… _abilities_ it surely must have been easy to acquire a position of your rang…? But tell me, did you simply manipulate your way up to where you are now or were the Feds just so impressed with your little sideshow that they decided to give you one of the best spots right away?” 

Little speckles of blood collect on Mantis’ sleeve and the table because he is snapping the rubberband in a hard rhythm by now. 

Wilson goes back to his usual demeanour and Mantis feels his own anger rise at that _simulated_ calmness and that disgusting honesty.

The man must be hiding something after all, but everything about him screams ‘innocent’ and Mantis has to swallow down a bitter laugh at that, because he is well aware that Wilson is anything but. 

He leans back on his chair to check the little security window in the door of his side of the interrogation cell.

“I did not come here to talk about myself.”

“But did you not?” Wilson replies with an expression that someone who is offering a person a cup of tea might carry. “I’ve told you before; if you won’t tell, I won’t either.” 

Mantis stares at that disgusting little excuse of a man behind the security glass and wills himself into keeping his voice calm.

“You are a murderer; a killer, a rapist, a monster; call it whatever you want, Wilson, but stop applying your own logic to me.” He exhales sharply. “I am _not_ like you.” 

At that Wilson just lets out a few amused chuckles before breaking into outright laughter, holding his stomach and wiping genuine tears from his face as if he had just witnessed the most hilarious situation. It takes a while for him to calm down but Mantis practices his worn out patience for a bit longer. 

When he finally catches his breath again Wilson looks up with a hint of pity in his eyes

. “Oh – my dear, dear agent, what have they done to your pretty, little head! Did they make you forget that you are just like me? Or are you simply pretending for your own peace of mind? Either way, I know the truth and you should not feel like you have to hide it from me either, hm?”

Wilson holds out his hand as if he expects Mantis to just reach through the glass and shake it, like some kind of surreal greeting.

“You like to kill just as much as I do, maybe even more – or well, at least you used to, it has been a while, hasn’t it? It seems _I_ am the closest thing you have to channel that urge at the moment… .” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hands. “’Was’ is the better word here, I suppose; until _he_ came back, of course.” 

“ _Stop_.” Mantis says; a clear warning in his voice but at this point he is not sure of how convinced of his own words he is any more. 

Laughing again, Wilson throws his head back in joy and claps his hands.

“You are too much fun, agent! And you’re enjoying this too, aren’t you? How delightful! I really do hope your little pet makes you feel as good as I did, though I must admit; I am so jealous that he gets to be close to you in ways that are simply impossible for me to follow… .” Wilson fakes a frown at those words and pulls the corners of his mouth down with the tips of his fingers. “Oh, what I would give to witness you having your way with him; still so vulnerable and trusting; and you just can not help but take advantage of that, can you? It’s almost like he wants you too, after all that has happened to him.” 

The lamps burst into a flurry of flashing glass and rain down onto their heads. 

When Mantis storms out of the room and slams the door as hard as he can, Wilson is still laughing. 

  
“So, have you made any progress on the Wilson case?” Turner asks and leans way too far into Mantis’ personal space. “I heard there was an… _incident_ , is that true?”

He just gives her the most hostile glare he can muster from behind his surgical mask and rubs his temples.

“Damn that new guard, I knew they put him there to check on my sessions.”

Turner just shrugs and sits on his desk before he can stop her. 

“Well, I still don’t understand why you got this case all to yourself, it’s a bit unfair don’t you think? Especially since we have been chewing on this one for a while; Wilson’s a tough bastard.” She bites into her sandwich and gets crumbs all over herself though Mantis generously refrains from pointing it out to her. 

“The leading department views it as a bit of an experiment; they want me to form a relationship based on trust with him, Wilson has been locked up for a while, so I am the only person of reference left in his life.” Mantis brushes a few crumbs off his papers and sighs. 

“Isn’t that a bit cruel?” Turner frowns and slides of Mantis’ desk before stumbling back to her own on those high heels of hers. 

Mantis hums. “Wilson _is_ a cruel man. He has killed, tortured and raped. And at this point we really have tried everything; turns out that so far this method has been working well. He trusts me.” 

Turner raises her eyebrows at him from across the room. 

“Does he? With all respect for your… powers.”, Mantis makes an amused sound at the back of his throat at her words; she still has not gotten used to sharing an office with the BAU’s resident one man freak show. “Don’t you think he will use your ‘relationship’ to his advantage?” 

With a tired smile Mantis moves his focus back to his work. 

“Don’t worry, Turner.” He says absent-mindedly as he starts documenting today’s session in detail. “Wilson is clever – I’ll give him that – but I can assure you he will not get through to me.” 

  
When Mantis comes home later that night he quietly puts his bag and coat aside and sneaks to the bedroom to stand in the doorway and watch the sleeping figure that occupies his bed. For a moment it is nice to just watch Eli rest peacefully for once but soon Mantis own tiredness takes over and he undresses quickly to slip underneath the sheets next to Eli and press himself up against his back. 

Eli mumbles something in his sleep, though it seems to be nothing more than a meek complaint about cold feet, before settling against Mantis and sighing contentedly. 

“How are you doing?” Mantis whispers quietly against Eli’s neck and pecks his shoulder. “Sorry for not being back sooner, I had a busy day… .”

There is a moment of silence before Eli shifts a bit and turns his head to meet Mantis’ lips with his own, though he misses and presses a wet kiss against his nose instead. 

“Mh, the leg’s better.” 

Mantis pulls him closer when the sudden urge to _protect_ washes over him upon viewing Eli’s memories of the day and he frowns while brushing his fingers through Eli’s tangled, blond hair. 

“How many times have I told you keep away from trouble?” he sighs and tugs at Eli’s earlobe in a mockingly chastising manner. “I know you want to fight again, Eli, but now is not the time. You’re in no shape for combat yet – hell, you should not engage in unnecessary exercise at the moment at all! And your mind – “ 

With a flinch Eli moves away and shoves at the pillows to put some distance between them. 

“Just because I let you look into my head doesn’t mean I want your opinion on everything I do!” he snarls. “I’m fucking bored, Mantis; so what _if_ I get into a punch-up or two!? I can handle myself just fine.”

Mantis sits up and puts his chin on his knees. 

“You can’t hide that black eye from me, even with the lights out, idiot.”

“Oh! _I_ can’t hide shit from you, huh?! But it’s just jolly fine if you keep all your fun little federal secrets from me!” Eli throws the sheets off himself and starts limping into the main room. 

“Eli, you – !” 

Mantis does not even have to follow him to know what he is talking about; in the time they have spent apart Eli has gotten better at hiding things from him, or at least to make them seem unimportant enough for Mantis to not unconsciously delve deeper into his mind. 

So when Mantis is about to slide off the bed to quietly follow his friend, he hesitates because he knows just how much of a fool he has been to not hide the envelope with Ocelot’s intel at his office; or anywhere really; just far enough away from Eli’s nosy self – for his own sake.

“ _Don’t_.” Eli hisses as soon as Mantis approaches him from behind and leans on the kitchen counter; probably to take some weight off his leg.

“There are things you are not ready to see yet, Eli. We both know that the physical therapy isn’t enough, _you_ know that you need – “

“I know that I do not need _shit_ , Mantis! I’d thought that you of all people would understand why I don’t want to see one of your damn government approved shrinks!” He turns around and the bruises on his face stand out starkly in the dim light. “Of course, I am not bloody fine and I _am_ aware of that but you know I’m not one to turn my back on my goals just because of a minor disadvantage!”

Mantis can not help but laugh.

“ _Minor_? You can barely even _touch_ me without having a flashback to what happened in Iraq – and do not look at me like that now, Eli – yes, I am going to address it if that is the only way you will finally understand!” He gets a bit closer to Eli who seems genuinely distressed at this point but Mantis can not hold back any more. “I can not blame you for not wanting to see a professional, but at least talk to _me_ instead of acting like none of this is really happening!” 

Eli has this really disgusting smile spreading across his face that Mantis recognises from when they were children; times where they had killed an innocent animal for fun or stolen from a homeless woman on the street; the rush of adrenaline and suppressed guilt showing clearly on Eli’s features.

“Oh, so you’re one of the good guys now, huh? All clean and trustworthy; working for the Americans and kissing arse left and right?!” 

Mantis rolls his eyes. 

“I was not aware you ever considered us to be the ‘bad guys’, Eli. But it does not suprise me that you would pride yourself on such a silly title.” 

Eli scoffs and does not look at him but it is clear that he has had enough of the discussion when he moves to pull on his coat and sneakers before pushing past Mantis to leave.

And somehow Mantis has neither the patience nor will to stop him; he just shrugs to himself before going back to bed to stare at the ceiling until he passes out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis loses, eli flees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive had a bit of trouble with this one and im really not happy, also im uploading this over my phone during a power outage so pray for me

When Mantis is gone for work the next day Eli starts packing his bags. Sure, there is not a lot to his belongings anyway and he silently curses his overly depended ass when he realises most of his things were bought for him by Mantis. Most of the shirts and shoes are ugly anyway; because even if he has always preferred functionality over aesthetics, Eli knows that clothes make the man.

Though his friend's current choice of wardrobe still seriously irritates him as he digs through the dresser for his own things, Eli can not help but smile fondly at the pair of tight, black leather-pants at the bottom of the drawer – probably one of the few remnants of Mantis' complicated fashion sense from their teenage years. Back then he always was clad up in the most clashing patterns and fabrics they were able to get their hands on; even liked to wear those provocatively short skirts and platform-soled boots. 

Now Eli scrunches up his nose at the assorted ties and briefly wonders where Mantis even got those terrible things, he has never seen him wear these anyway – hopefully they are just a present from an overly friendly coworker. 

After most of his clothes are stowed away safely in an old military duffel Eli starts raiding the fridge for leftovers and nervously sinks onto the couch, tapping his fingers along the brim of the styrofoam packaging of his döner kebab. For now Mantis’ presence is only looming at the back of his mind but has not manifested into something more solid – yet – and Eli hurriedly chows down on his greasy lunch while anxiously eyeing his watch from time to time. 

Mantis will not be home for the next hour or so, which is good because otherwise he would be close enough to spy on Eli and dig through his head only to uncover this hastily thrown together plan, even if it is impulsive and childish – at this point Eli really is too desperate to get out of this place; this apartment – hell – the States themselves. 

Just as he takes a big bite of flatbread and soggy salad the phone starts ringing. 

Immediatly Eli panics because Mantis _knows_ ; somehow found out about this whole thing and now is checking on him to make sure he can not ditch him just like that; and is really tempted to grab his bags and run. 

But if he does _not_ pick up, Mantis will be even more suspicious and force him to keep staying for this ridiculous “recovery” – not as if his leg is already healed up well enough anyway. 

The phone is cold in his hands. 

Eli picks up and is about to recite all the apologies and excuses he could possibly come up with when he is greeted by a calm and friendly Russian greeting. 

“What – ?” 

There is a short pause and someone clears his throat at the other end of the line before the speaker switches to English. 

“Oh my! What a pleasant surprise!” Eli blinks. “It’s good to hear from you personally for once too, Eli!”

“Excuse me?” The voice does sound familiar, but somehow Eli can not get a matching picture in his mind.

“Mantis told me you have been doing well, but you sound better than I expected – that’s wonderful! I suppose he isn’t around right now, hm? Shame! But tell me, how have you been doing lately? How’s the capital?” 

For a moment Eli just stares at the phone before awkwardly mumbling: “It’s good. I’m good.” 

There is a slight pause and the other person finally seems to understand that Eli has no damn clue who he is speaking too. 

“Oh! – You remember me, don’t you? Don’t tell me Mantis never mentioned we’ve been in contact, I’m hurt.”

“He didn’t, no.”

A click of tongue. 

“I’ll have a word with him about that, then, I suppose. But please, Eli, we had some nice times back then on base – well – at least before you and Mantis decided to run off with Sahelantropus and had your own little Neverland reenactment, huh? The boss was devastated.”

Oh, _hell_ no.

“Ocelot. What do _you_ want?” 

Ocelot chuckles and Eli feels a shiver creep down his spine at the sound. 

“Well, I merely wanted to check in on our dear, disloyal Mantis – he hasn’t called me in a while, I’ve been worrying, you see. But since I can assume you aren’t aware of our… _relationship_ , so your reaction is to be expected.” 

Eli almost throws up a little at the way Ocelot emphasises that word; a sick curiosity rising in his throat; but he keeps it together and exhales calmly before speaking. 

“So you work together? I didn’t know you were with the feds.” 

“Don’t be silly, I do not need to be with the FBI to make use of their resources. And I never got along with Hoover anyway, so I mostly stayed on the sidelines back then.” Ocelot makes an amused noise. “That’s were your little friend came in handy – I _did_ have my contacts in Washington, but it has turned out to be way more convenient like this. Two birds; one stone.” 

It is really hard not just to slam the phone on the floor. 

“Two birds, eh? So you’re observing Mantis like this; observing _us_? What does he get out of it?”

Ocelot hums. “If that’s what you want to call it – but I can assure you it’s a completely consensual arrangement. And well, there have been a few things that he owes me for, accumulated over the years at the KGB.” There is a short pause. “I think he started seeing me as something of a father-figure around that time, I’m fairly surprised he never told you actually.” 

The sound of plastic breaking and splintering all over the floorboards echoes through the apartment as Eli throws his duffel over his shoulders and storms out of the room. 

  
  
The sun is out and it is way too warm – Mantis just really wishes he had taken his sunglasses to work because at this point he is squinting so hard that he can barely see properly. 

Maneuvering along the sidewalk in its glowing anticipation of people making their way home proves difficult and Mantis keeps nervously adjusting his mask while trying to attract as little attention as possible. 

Using his powers to hide himself from passerby’s eyes has almost become a subconscious necessity, so Mantis is able to spend most of his energy on raking through the thoughts of more interesting strangers and – as soon as he gets off the Metro – starts hooking himself into traces of Eli’s mind.

Somehow that turns out easier than it should and he bumps into some random guy and almost falls onto the dirty pavement. 

_Eli?_

There is no response.

Mantis euphoria sinks quickly as he makes his way through the streets and follows the trail of heated emotion, a shameful worry quickly building up in his chest. Then he spots his friend walking towards the Metro station and starts trailing behind him while calling out in his thoughts for Eli again and again. 

“Stop following me!” Eli eventually barks and whips around, face red and sweaty in his obvious frustration, and pushes Mantis away before grimacing and spitting on the ground between them. 

For a moment Mantis can not do anything but stare at his him in disbelief before his body catches up with his brain and he reaches out uselessly to grab at Eli's coat to stop him from moving.

_What do you think you are doing? Talk to me._

He awkwardly stumbles after Eli but his insistent telepathic pleas do not provoke any reaction aside from a snarl and a bitter laugh. Mantis closes his eyes and shakes his head, because he really does not want to go this far – has not even thought to _plan_ to go as far – but faced with Eli's stubborn refusal to acknowledge his presence beyond simple aggressive dismissal, he is left with no other choice.

“Mantis, let go off me. Now.”

But Mantis does not ease his psychic hold on Eli, who is standing frozen in the middle of the sidewalk glaring at him like a trapped animal.

_Not until you stop and calm down, you are being completely hysteric, Eli._

“Stop it with this freak shit!” He hisses at him at Mantis steps closer to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “You don't own me and I can go where I want and I _want_ to leave _now_!” 

_We can discuss this back at the apartment, come on. And do not look at me like that, Eli, you bought that plane ticket with my money anyway. You need to –_

“No!” 

Somehow _something_ between them snaps and Eli almost doubles over after Mantis loses control of the empty space around his body – but as so often before, Eli’s reflexes are faster than his mind can pick up on them and Mantis gets roughly pushed against the shop window of a small thrift store as his breath gets knocked out of him. 

“I can’t believe you would step this low, but honestly – with the way you have been acting lately I really shouldn’t be surprised, huh?”

Mantis finally manages to focus on Eli’s angry face and belatedly realises that people around them have stopped to stare. 

“Just tell me – just this one thing, really – why that old fuck of all people?”

For a moment they both just stare at each other in silence, Eli’s fingers digging into Mantis’ shoulders as he presses him harder against the window. 

Beneath his mask Mantis gapes.

“You talked to Ocelot.” He says out loud.

Eli grins though the aggression in his expression is so overwhelming that it seems more like a wild grimace and he shakes his head wildly as if to ground himself.

“Are you playing dumb or just too self absorbed to spy on my thoughts now, too? I really can’t believe that I waited almost _four_ years for you only to find out that you have been working with god damn _Ocelot_ of all people only so you could have your normal little life in the US?!”

Ripping down his mask to expose his mangled face to the street, Mantis pushes back against Eli as hard as he can despite his shaking hands.

“Is this what you want to call _normal_? How dense are you Eli?” Their feelings; unfamiliar yet entwined with each other so organically; are finally bubbling over and he wishes they were anywhere but on this damn sidewalk with people gawking at them and the sun burning in Mantis’ eyes as he tries to focus on something that are not his own thoughts. “ _You_ were the one who left.”

There is a sharp pull and then – pain shooting up his right arm and Mantis is not completely sure if Eli just dislocated it by accident. 

He gasps and bites his lip anyway.

Eli’s breath is hot on his face, everything feels like it is burning again. 

“D-Don’t you fucking – You don’t get to tell me I _let_ this happen! I know you‘re constantly in my bloody head - _you_ know! So you don‘t just get to pretend to feel sorry for me or that you care about me and _then_ y-you proceed to never fucking look me in the eyes anymore like im some kind of disgusting whore – “ 

He is almost shrieking when his voice finally breaks off. 

“Eli, this is not what I – “ Mantis tries but doesn’t know what to say and looks away. 

“Yes! Yes it is!” Eli growls and shakes him softly; almost desperately. “This is _exactly_ what you’re doing – what you have been meaning to do – and it is what you _have_ been doing ever since you showed up at that damn hospital! But unlike you I haven‘t lost sight of my goals and I will keep pursuing them!“

With that he lets go off Mantis, shoulders his duffel and starts walking down the street without turning back. 

Mantis raises his hand weakly and weakly attempts to ignore the searing pain in his side, but no matter how hard he tries to hold his friend back with the power of his mind this time – all he can do is sink to the ground and watch Eli go. 

  
  
“Agent, you don’t look so good today, hm? Come sit with me and tell good ole Gerald what’s eating at ya.” 

Mantis does not look up as he sits down on his chair but still notices how Wilson idly starts tapping his chin.

“He left again, didn’t he? Shame, really, I thought the whole ‘happy in love’ look was good on you.”

“Shut up.” 

With a shrug Wilson leans back. 

“Where did he go though, didn’t you say all you two had was each other? My, I’m so sorry, my dear agent!”

It’s hard to ignore his twitching fingers but Mantis takes a deep breath and tries to focus. 

“Back to England, I suppose, though he does not plan to stay there for long. But that is not why I’m here for, Wilson.” He finally gets out his papers and straightens his neck. “I hear you have been playing nice, according to your psychiatrists?” 

“Of course!” Wilson preens. “You know I would do anything to accommodate you in your assignment!” 

Mantis smiles behind his mask. 

“Good. Because we do have a whole bunch of work ahead of us.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the moment we all have been waiting for :'^)

„Listen, I know I shouldn‘t pry or anything, but I kinda got the feeling that you have not been doing so well lately, have you?“ 

Turner frowns when Mantis does not reply and sighs, placing a mug of coffee in front of him – right on his paperwork – before leaning over his desk.

“You look like crap.” She announces. 

Without even considering to reply, Mantis shoves the mug aside and rolls his eyes before pointedly using his powers to make a pen float into his hand so he can finish his report. Turner keeps looming over him for a bit before finally giving up and sliding back behind her own desk. 

“I don’t get it,” Turner shakes her head as she starts hacking away on her keyboard. “The Wilson case is going well isn’t it? The whole BAU is out there celebrating that we finally managed to locate the victims’ bodies and you’re just moping around trying to avoid conversation at all cost? You know how many of us are jealous of your position?”

Mantis puffs his cheeks and falls back against his chair to push himself away from his desk.  
“I am quite aware. After all you aren’t attempting to hide it at all.”

The keyboard noises slow down and eventually stop – Mantis spins his chair until he is facing Turner who is staring at her lap. 

“It’s not that I think that you don’t deserve this job or anything,” She mumbles and wraps her arms around herself before offering him a pained little smile. “But some of us have been working really hard to establish themselves and advance further – Hell! – it took me eight years to get up here to this damned place with an office on my own, and then suddenly one day a kid like you shows up with nothing on his resume but this whole… well –“

The mug on Mantis desk shakes a little.

“The freak thing?”

Turner raises her hands defensively.

“Oh! That is not what I meant, you know I don’t think of you like that at all! It’s just that you haven’t even attended the academy yet and uh,” Averting her eyes, she adjusts her glasses. “That fact _does_ gather up quite the… frustration with the rest of the unit.”

With a quiet snap of his fingers Mantis forces the supplies on his desk to rise into the air and starts stapling his documents together while letting everything else – paperweights, letters, pens and a few folders – dance around in the air listlessly.

“Also you really do not have to brag like this.” Turner points out with a click of the tongue and finally turns back to her own work. “No wonder people are either annoyed or scared by you, you’re making no effort to be subtle about any of your powers anymore.”

“Let them be scared. It’s funny.” Mantis shrugs and grins lazily behind his mask before setting the objects back down on his desk, then lets the mug with coffee float over to Turner. 

“Here,” He mumbles absentmindedly when she raises an eyebrow at him. “You need it more than I do.”

  
  


_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“Oh, what a surprise! You know you could just turn this thing off instead of letting me record my autobiography on here every time I call, right? Or do you simply just miss my voice, Mantis? I can’t blame you, it has been so long, hasn’t it? Well, you know the drill – I’m only calling to make sure you are alright – the usual, really. And how is Eli, by the way? Are you two still getting along well? Everything has been calm over here, the dogs are doing fine. … . You know how to reach me, call soon!”

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“… . Mantis, remember our arrangement. You know how to reach me - and just in case you forgot, I sent my address and new number your way. Again.”

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“You know it is one thing for you to just ignore my calls because you’re upset, but this is starting to escalate into very unprofessional behaviour. I heard Eli left you and honestly – with the way you have been acting lately it is not much of a surprise to me, really. Mantis, I’m saying this as someone who only has the best in mind for you; you need to get it together – you are walking on very thin ice here, and not just with me, but with our other… associates as well. Ah, but I heard the job is going well, huh? Call me.”

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“It's Ocelot. Call me.”

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“I think I will come by soon, so don’t act surprised if I _suddenly_ show up on your doorstep. Eli is doing alright by the way, I’m keeping an eye on him. Call me back.”

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“Mantis – “

_“The caller you are attempting to reach is not available right now, please hang up and try again later or leave a message after the tone.”_

“… .”

  
  


The first thing Mantis notices as he steps into the new cell is that it is significantly larger than the interrogation room – there is actual furniture present; an old hospital bed with flaking paint and a nice big desk with a few books on it – Wilson himself is perched on the chair with an expectant expression dancing over his features while he skims through the pages of a fashion magazine.

“Ah, Agent!” He climbs down and spreads his arms in a lukewarm welcoming gesture before retreating to sit down on his bed. “Please, have a seat! And tell me! How do you like the new place?”

Mantis reluctantly sits down on the chair with crossed legs, and it only now occurs to him that this is in fact the first time the two of them had a conversation without that layer of safety glass separating them.

“Certainly an improvement from the last one.” 

The guard by the door nervously clears his throat as Mantis asks for him to leave.

“With all due respect sir, but I have specific orders to not leave the prisoner unsupervised under any circumstances.”

With a heavy sigh Mantis makes a walking gesture with his fingers and watches the guard go stiff before he turns around and unlocks the door, marching outside with unnatural motions. 

“You should teach me that trick some time!” Wilson beams at him and puts his magazine aside. “But now that were – hm – entre nous, I figure it is time to catch up on what has been going on in the outside world! Well, they do let me read the newspaper now – one of those fancy little privileges I’ve gotten thanks to you – but now tell me how the dear feds have been treating you!”

“I’m fine,” Mantis replies, his voice clipped. “And I am glad to see our little deal worked out. I told you I stand by my words and I will continue to do so.”

Wilson seems more at ease in this new environment, his posture is more relaxed and he easily breaks eye contact to distract himself with observing his few, new possessions. Despite being skeptical of this new persona, Mantis tries to keep calm outwardly to observe Wilson further.

“What got you all solemn and defensive, agent? I thought we had gotten over that little love sickness of yours, or was I mistaken?”  
It is hard to not just snap the guy’s neck sometimes, but Mantis finds it harder and harder to resist this temptation, just having to look at that childish face on a grown man’s body – he turns his head away – is enough to let little, hot bubbles of rage rise in his blood; so reminiscent of the parasitic anger that clung to him through his early years.

“I told you, I am fine.” He repeats. “And most of the cases we discussed have been progressing, thanks to your cooperation. One of my superiors actually suggested to consult you for further research because of your extensive… insight.” 

Happily grinning, Wilson claps his hand together like an excited child. 

“So they want you to be my Clarice? Really, what an honour, agent! Just imagine all the good we can do for the world together!”

Despite Wilson’s only obvious motivation here – avoiding death row – Mantis is aware that he also craves something more. The books and magazine’s and the soft bed are just a facade for his actual intentions; gaining influence – power – over someone, something, anything really and it shows when he combs his fingers through his greasy, blonde hair and stares at Mantis with those little wet fish eyes.

“But don’t you wanna take that heavy mask off and get comfortable? After all it’s just the two of us here and, y’know, I prefer seeing the faces of the people I work with.” A friendly smile.

Mantis knows that this is true, he has seen the photographs of Wilson’s mangled victims; their features almost inhumanely unrecognizable underneath all that _artistic_ carving.

“No.” He replies simply. “I prefer to work like this.”

That seems to get Wilson’s attention, or to irk him somehow because he leans a bit forward and squints at Mantis. Granted, he has never had many thoughts regarding Mantis’ appearance, and even less comments at that – one or two maybe about his hair – but never anything concerning the mask, which is generally the first people notice about him. 

Mantis eyes him curiously.

“Ah, of course! I value your comfort above all, agent, you know that, don’t you? But please, you don’t have to hide yourself for my sake.”

Despite his words, something has shifted in Wilson’s demeanor, an interest is piqued in Mantis – something that he hasn’t felt or even considered at all so far – and so he delves in further into Wilson’s mind, carefully avoiding the clear traps of gore and degeneracy hidden along the way. 

He is not satisfied though, something is wrong here, and for that very reason Mantis can not figure out _what_ exactly it is, he has always had his suspicions but never any actual proof that this is just an elaborate set-up anyway, but now Wilson’s detached expression and careful backpedaling strikes him as unusual – even for the serial killer in front of him. 

“I don’t… – “ Mantis starts but finds himself lost in that dark and overwhelming mind again. He panics, tries to get up and away from Wilson who is just harmlessly watching him with a sick curiosity, but somehow neither his body nor his powers will move him and he feels himself helplessly drifting off into the static of uselessly complicated paths and patterns of Wilson’s brain.

 _What are you doing?_ He presses the thought out of his own mind, finding himself unable to specifically direct it at anyone else. 

“You really don’t seem too well, agent. Maybe you _should_ take that mask off – you can barely breath like that, can you?”

Mantis wants to say no and tell the man how ridiculous he is being, but only watches in horror as he raises his own hands to undo the clasps of his mask. 

The direct assault on his overwhelmed senses is something familiar by now, but that _thing_ in front of him – like a black hole of thoughts and emotion – pulls him down, down into something so alien and horrifying that Mantis loses it almost immediately.

He crashes onto the ground, violently scratches at his arms and face and makes a sound that doesn’t sound like anything he has ever heard before. And there is nobody else but him in this little windowless room. The panic spills from his mouth and he vomits whatever is left of the scraps of food he has managed to choke down this past week; something is so very wrong but he just can not figure out what, has to dig even deeper – even if it means getting lost. 

Mantis tastes blood and fear and bile and for the first time in a long while realises that he is all by himself now, completely and utterly alone with his head splitting apart, his own mind sprawled across the ground in pieces. 

And he does not wake up again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli worries

Baghdad is a beautiful city, Eli decides. Sure – he never really had an eye for architecture and aesthetics, usually he just goes for whatever is the most impressive, functionality aside – but seeing this place so disturbed by political unrest and military conflicts makes him angry. War belongs on the battlefield, he knows, there is no honour in bombing out civilians.

He stops in front of the inn he is staying at and – as always – there is a little boy selling that sweet and sticky mann al-sama and fresh baklava. The kid waves at Eli as he enters the dusty establishment.

Inside it is dark and cool and Eli frees himself from his sweaty keffiyeh and wipes his forehead with it. 

“.مرحبا” he greets the elderly woman behind the reception and offers her an exhausted smile.

Work has been tough and actually finding people interested in his special _services_ has proven to be difficult – nobody here really is interested in some nameless, limping mercenary from the west without any proper credentials. At this point Eli is seriously considering moving up further north to get right into the war zone because the probability of being hired there is way more likely than in the south. 

Though even just looking American earns him disrespectful stares on the streets here, Eli still manages to scrape by just barely and can afford the cheap closet of a room offered to him at the inn.  
He unlocks his door with the same caution as always and immediately he knows that there is something wrong; if the intruder is still hiding in the room they must be aware of his presence and Eli snaps his head to the closed curtain left of him that separates the bed from the living space.

“Show yourself!” He spits and reaches for the gun concealed by his loose shirt. 

At this point Eli is so focused on the apparent movement behind the curtain that he barely notices the pair of cowboy boots placed neatly on the ground next to the door.

“Oh, hell _no_.”

“Please Eli, mind your manners, will you? This is no way of greeting an old friend, don’t you think?” 

The curtain is pulled aside and there – perched like a vulture on that damn tiny bed sits the gross old fuck in all his glory. 

“What do you want, Ocelot?” Eli grunts and closes the door behind him, fingers still gently curled around his M9. 

Ocelot fakes a sad face but still somehow manages to look smug as always as he leans forward to muster Eli. 

“And here I was, thinking you would be happy to see me – look –“ He points at the boots. “I even took of my shoes waiting for you! I don’t do that for just anyone, you know?”

Eli watches him with suspicion in his eyes as he talks; the unflattering lines around Ocelot’s face pull tight with every word and Eli finds some superficial satisfaction in the fact that the years have not been generous to the old man.  
Ocelot cracks what seems to be a genuine smile and hops off the bed with surprisingly youthful grace to gather his boots. Aside from the graveyard that is his ageing face he has not changed much it seems, though he is wearing that absolutely ridiculous kaftan and Eli does not even want to _think_ about him running around with those boots underneath there.

“You can let go off that gun now, boy, if I had wanted you dead you wouldn’t even have made it up the stairs.”

Eli simply pretends to relax slightly, though he is still on edge below his facade; Ocelot’s words are hard to trust – after all the guy had done him good and dislocated enough limbs for a lifetime back in the 80s – he goes by intuition and gives the old, wrinkly bastard a chance to talk for now.

“Make it quick.” 

It takes Ocelot a moment to lean down and put on his boots again, bad back probably, before finally speaking up.

“I’m sure you have figured out by now that this is about our mutual friend.”

“So this isn’t a happy reunion after all? I’m hurt, old man.” Despite being in the mood to rip the guy’s head off, Eli has to force himself to keep it together and has to settle for crossing his arms to seem more unimpressed and to keep himself from anxiously fumbling around with the hem of his shirt.

Ocelot smirks and settles back down on the bed, kicking his feet in the air as if the place belongs to him and Eli has to remind himself that this is all just a farce to get him to snap.

“There has been an… ” He ponders on his words, seemingly trying to find the perfect word as if he hasn’t already planned out his upcoming monologue. “Let’s call it an incident.”

Eli feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand up but still somehow manages keeps a straight face.

“An incident?” He inquires carefully. 

“It appears so. I only read the reports but they are quite something already, if I am being honest. That’s why I took the freedom to pay you a friendly visit and make sure you hear this story from someone you can trust first, we don’t want anyone to use this little story to your disadvantage.”

There is a moment of silence – the only noise between them is the echoing sound of faint music and laughter coming from the markets outside. 

“Wil you finally cut the bullshit and tell me what happened instead of wasting my bloody time!?”

Ocelot sighs.

“He didn’t tell you a lot about his work, did he? I mean beyond the fact that he works for the BAU Mantis has been secretive about his affairs even towards me – despite the fact that he was probably aware that I have my ways of finding out about his business no matter how charitable he is feeling at the time.” 

Eli balls his hands into fists at the mere assumption that Mantis somehow trusts this old tosser more than he would trust him.

“Well, apparently his superiors gave him a _special_ assignment, they were counting on his powers to turn out to be the key to solving a little problem that they had been stuck with for longer than it is seen fashionable at the FBI.” Ocelot crosses his legs and shrugs nonchalantly. “There was this man named Gerald Wilson – really nasty guy – convicted for multiple cases of murder, rape and abduction. In the States they usually put these amateurs on death row, so Wilson ended up in a nice, pretty cell without a view and was doomed to spend the last few remaining months of his life rotting away in regret.”

The cheery music coming from outside starts getting louder.

“But so it turns out that this guy, Wilson, knows and killed more than he let his prosecutors realise at first glance – the FBI jumps in to have people find out more about those ‘lost’ cases where they try to locate the bodies of the remaining victims, and since Wilson keeps confessing to more and more murders at this point the Feds are pretty much helpless, because it isn’t clear what is actual valuable information and what is… a desperate cry for attention.”

Eli swallows.

“So they assigned Mantis to the case?”

“Yes – a surprise, really, considering he had only joined recently and didn’t get the chance to actually, ah, gather a lot of experience in the field. You know, aside from his past.” Ocelot’s ugly little grin is so irritating that Eli wishes for nothing more than to wipe it off his face.  
“So this was pretty much all that I needed to know at the time; I figured the kid deserved a chance to prove himself, or whatever really, and I let him do his thing while being under the impression that everything was going well.” 

“… . I figure it wasn’t?”

“No. Apparently the BAU had come up with the idea to use an agent to build a relationship with Wilson to gain his trust – that’s were they thought that using Mantis would be a good option since he has a much easier time psyching through people’s schemes, they just assumed that any attempts Wilson would make to manipulate him would fail. Which they did. At least in the beginning.”

“Is he okay? What the fuck happened, Ocelot?”

“Well, it seems that the BAU was right; Wilson took a liking to him and as it turns out Mantis did so in return. They aren’t exactly sure what exactly transpired between the two of them, but I think that Mantis simply felt lonely and wanted someone to talk to.”

With a scoff Eli shakes his head and leans against the door.

“Oh, and you also _think_ that out of all people to connect with he would choose a fucking serial killer? Mantis may be naive but he isn’t bloody stupid!”

“With you gone, someone so profoundly acquainted with death seems like a reasonable option, no? Whatever it was that attracted Mantis to Wilson, they formed a morbid little friendship over the following months – and the BAU’s plan seemed to work out well. Wilson provided valuable intel that helped advance the case immensely, though the Feds had to promise to keep him off death row for the time of being. Mantis was highly praised for his progress.”

“Ocelot, I –“ Eli begins but cuts himself off when he notices the look on the old man’s face.

“I’ve only had these reports on me for about a week myself, do not assume that I wouldn’t have interfered if I had been aware of how things had started to escalate.”

“… . He isn’t hurt, is he?”

“They aren’t exactly sure on what went down, but at the beginning of July Mantis had scheduled another ‘interrogation’ session with Wilson.” Ocelot takes a deep breath and wipes some sweat off his temples with his sleeve. “It didn’t… end well.”

Eli opens his mouth to yell or curse at him but honestly at this point he does not have the energy to feel anger any more – all that is left is an overwhelming sense of dread creeping up his spine.

“I assume Wilson somehow managed to subtly influence Mantis to the point that the part of him that draws his powers from other people was affected. Actually, back in the 80s we developed a theory that Mantis’ powers are directly influenced by the person whose emotions he is currently most focused on – it’s really a form of parasitism, though in _your_ case I always felt that it was more of a symbiotic connection. Wilson must have figured out something alone the lines and decided to take advantage of it. A bad decision, as it turns out.”

“What do you mean? Did Mantis –“

“Yes. Wilson and two guards who happened to be outside of the cell. It took a few hours for the rest of the prison security to gain access to the room, and even then they had to wait for special forces to arrive to contain Mantis. The reports state that the scene must have been an absolute mess – he pretty much painted the walls with those poor guards, a shame really.”

It feels like a hole is opening beneath Eli and swallowing him whole, guilt and fear are pulling at him and, even if it is just the unbearable heat, he has to sit down and try to collect himself. 

“He hasn’t… – he hasn’t done something like this ages, Ocelot. He was in control. This… must be a misunderstanding or something.”

Ocelot scoffs. 

“Eli, of all people I expect you to know Mantis well enough to understand that his powers aren’t something that can simply be controlled like that. It doesn’t matter how stable he was before you left, in the end he still ended up breaking and getting himself – and me – into a lot of trouble. He turned those people inside out without a second thought, hell, when the guards finally managed to get to him he was apparently attempting to have… intercourse with Wilson’s dismembered body. He is _not_ just a victim.”

Warm hands on his shoulders, on his face, in his hair – Eli feels himself get nauseous and has to gag, finds himself steadied by Ocelot who has gotten up and offers him a bottle of water he has taken from god knows where. 

Eli’s voice vibrates through his entire body as he speaks.

“I _need_ to see him. Now.”

“That’s why I’m here, boy. Mantis is currently being kept at a special forensics lab. The last time I saw him he was conscious but not responding to any kind of external stimuli. You know how much the kid hates hospitals, they got him hooked up to all kinds of machinery there – it is quite impressive actually.” Ocelot clears his throat. “But this is the actual reason for my visit; I want you to come back to D.C. with me so we can take care of this whole… situation.”

Without so much as blinking Eli just nods mutely and gets up from his chair.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis rests, eli frets

“What even is this place? This doesn’t seem very government-approved to me… .”

Ocelot chuckles quietly into his collar and leads Eli into the massive concrete block of a building. It is quite humid outside today so as soon as Eli steps inside the dry airy and stench of disinfectant hit him like a punch. 

“They are not exactly going to use a normal hospital for their, ah, more _special_ patients. I heard the Wilson case caused quite the stir in the department and was a real hassle to cover up after Mantis –“

Interrupted by a bored looking guard Ocelot fishes out some papers from inside his coat and offers the mn a soothing smile framed by that godawful moustache.

“Don’t worry,” He tells Eli who is following behind with a demonstrative distance put between them. “Last time I visited I was able to get to him without any problems.”

Eli nods but there is an entirely different anxiety flooding his mind – unrelated to the old man’s ugly mug or this questionable medical facility. As they walk past unmarked doors into some kind of entry hall this plump and compact feeling builds up further and cages him in, at this point it is pretty much impossible or him to concentrate on Ocelot’s constant monologuing – whatever the reason for that may be, anyway. 

Some distant part of Eli’s brain wonders if this is some clumsy tactic to get him to relax – but with the absolute tone of smug superiority reigning Ocelot’s words it is hard to believe that they are coming from any sympathetic place.

“Ocelot,” Eli manages finally as they go through more unnecessary security measures. “I – ... Is Mantis really in this building… ?”

His voice must be so quiet that h can literally watch Ocelot slowly processing them, eventually the old man raises an accusing eyebrow.

“Of course e is, why else would I take you here?”

Eli does not have it in him to shrug or snap back at him – instead he flinches when the guard pats him down and calls on him to hand out his M9. He reluctantly acquiesces but absent-mindedly moves his right foot a bit to get a good feeling of the hidden combat knife inside of his boot. 

Ocelot does not seem to have any weapons on him, or at least the guard does not notice – Eli is convinces that he must be hiding that ridiculous revolver _somewhere_. 

The nurse approaching them does not look like a nurse at all, or at least the nurses that Eli is used to. Ocelot greets her like an old friend, though she seems fairly unimpressed as she regards him with cold eyes and checks his identification papers.

“I assume you are here to see your niece, Mister Dunbar? Though her condition remains the same – I told you before that we would contact you in case anything changed.”

“Nephew,” Ocelot corrects her and pulls that sickly sweet smile that causes bile to rise in Eli’s throat. “And yes – I am aware – but I figured that regular contact with, let’s say another attachment figure of his could be useful for his recovery, don’t you agree?”

The nurse just clicks her tongue in response as Ocelot introduces Eli as Mantis’ childhood friend and then proceeds to lead them down a hallway with observation windows scattered across the walls left and right of them. Eli barely dares to take a look, but his curiosity gets the better of him; inside the various rooms there are stacked up mountains of medical equipment so it proves difficult to actually be able to spot any potential inhabitants, though Eli is able to make out a bandaged limb or a sleeping face peeking out of the bedsheets here and there.

The entire mood of this place brings back unloved memories of his own hospital stay – though this here somehow seems so much worse in comparison to Eli’s comfortably well lit hospital room and he feels a pang of guilt flash up in his chest. 

Those people in here do not seem to like they will be able to leave any time soon. Or ever, if he is being honest with himself.

“It is rude to stare, come on.” Ocelot calls from way ahead and Eli snaps out of his thoughts to stumble after him. 

The dreadful feeling only gets worse as the nurse stops them in front of one of the rooms – and only now Eli realises that this crippling sensation is not because of his proximity to Mantis mind, but because he is _unable_ to feel it at all. 

“Ocelot… . I can’t –“ He stammers but Ocelot turns back and guides him towards the observation window, a supposedly comforting hand placed between his shoulders, though Eli’s instinct tells him to rip it off clean instead of letting it be.

“The patient has been in an unconscious state ever since first she –“ With a nervous glance at Ocelot’s expectant expression the nurse corrects herself. “Ever since he first was admitted.”

Eli stares into the room and can feel that unusual yet terrifying emptiness spread through his body. Somehow, though, he manages to stay almost eerily calm, despite the graphic descriptions of the various surgical procedures performed in the past few weeks.

“While we are not exactly sure what caused the cerebral swelling in the first place, we decided that we had to take action immediately. The osmotherapy did not relieve enough pressure so we went with a decompressive craniectomy – removing part of the skull temporarily until the other medications finally brought down the swelling.”

It hurts. It hurts to look through that stupid glass and see a skinny figure being swallowed by machines and cables and tubes, hooked up to all that mess and with the freshly shaved head covered in bandages. 

Eli’s stomach drops because he sees Mantis but he can still not _feel_ him which is so new and alien to him that he has to lean against the wall to steady himself – even after Mantis first came for him after he had been rescued from Iraq their connection had slowly build itself up again, never being gone in the first place.

But now there is nothing.

“Can we go inside and see him? I would like to give his friend here the chance to try and see if he can reconnect with my nephew.”

“Sir, with all due respect, but the patient has been unresponsive to all of our stimulation attempts, I heavily doubt that –“ 

Ocelot clears his throat.

“So can we go see him?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” The nurse says with an exaggerated sigh and grabs some kind of communication device from her hip before turning away and walking down the hall into the opposite direction of where they came from. “Please wait here for a moment.”

Ocelot is still staring through the observation window and Eli tries to read the emotion on his face but he supposes that underneath all that fake personality and moustache there is not much left any more.

“I- I don’t want to go inside, I think.” He admits and nervously wipes his face with his sleeve.

“What’s the matter, Eli? I’m sure it will be alright, Mantis is in no state to do any further harm to anyone –“

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Eli grits his teeth and glares at the old man. “It’s just… - I’m not even sure if this is _actually_ Mantis… .”

Ocelot turns to him with something akin to genuine surprise painting his features.

“Of course this is him, what are you even talking about? Do you really think I would go through all this hassle just for fun?” 

_Yes._ Eli thinks but does not reply and Ocelot smirks.

“Oh! It’s because your little connection is not working any more, huh? Well, that’s a shame but I am sure that you will be able to rebuild it in no time as soon as Mantis comes to! That is why you came here after all, remember? To help him with his recovery.”

Ocelot’s false optimism is really pissing him off and a little paranoid voice at the back of his mind tells him that this is all some kind of trap; Mantis is actually dead, that is why he can not feel him, of course, and Ocelot is just trying to lure him into one of his dirty schemes just like he did back at Mother Base when Eli had just been a gullible kid. 

Finally the nurse returns and lets them into the room under the condition that they “do not touch anything” and Eli anxiously follows Ocelot inside who immediately disregards the nurses’ request and grabs the only chair in the room to sit down next to the bed. 

“Here, have a look and convince yourself that it is really him.” He offers and Eli turns his face in shame because he knows that the nurse must be scrutinizing him for his ridiculous doubts.

He steps closer to the person wrapped in neat bedsheets and hospital garments and balls his hands into fist as he realises that the face beneath that oxygen mask really belongs to Mantis – he is so pale, even paler than usual, and the fact that his hair is gone seems to only amplify the emaciated look of his sunken eyes and cheeks. Eli wants to reach out and touch his skin – anything of him, really – but does not dare because that impossible feeling seething inside him is coming to a boil and he has to take a step back from Mantis’ unconscious body to let all of this become _real_.

The worst part is not the bandaged skull or the scars that seem so new and fresh – and Eli supposes they could be – but the fact that Mantis’ eyes are wide open and staring into nothingness, making him seem even more like a corpse. 

“Since he is unresponsive we have to use a gastric feeding tube, he is severely malnourished and we were lucky to get him stabilised after all this trauma his body went through. Despite the surgery, however, the doctors assume that his catatonic state is purely psychological and not influenced by any brain damage since the cranial surgeries went off without any complications.” The nurse says. “So positive stimulation – especially by people the patient is already familiar with – could indeed prove useful.”

“I want to be alone with him.” Eli chokes and Ocelot nods at the nurse and they fuck off to god knows where, probably to watch him and Mantis from behind that disgusting screen. 

He takes the chair and reaches for the pristine sheets; crumples the fabric up in his hands to make it look a bit more like there is a living person resting in this bed. There are various fluids dribbling in and out of Mantis through the tubes attached to his body and Eli watches them with some kind of morbid fascination before finally building up the courage to take Mantis’ hand in his own, mindful of the IV port stuck to the back of his hand. 

Mantis skin feels colder than it should, Eli decides, and carefully moves his fingers over that bony hand to share at least some of the unbearable heat spilling from his own body. 

He knows he wants to say something, _anything_ really, but his mouth does not work and what good is there in speaking to someone who is not _there_ anyway. Eli almost wants to expect a miracle like in some cheesy film; just a few heartfelt words and the comatose person will open their eyes and wake up and everything will be alright. But that would just be rubbish, wouldn’t it? 

Still, Eli pretends the tiny, chortled sound Mantis makes through that oxygen mask is a reaction to his presence and he wonders briefly where they stored his actual mask, if it even survived the whole incident.

“I’ll get you a new one, promise.” He says and squeezes Mantis’ hand slightly. “As soon as we get you out of here.”

Mantis does not even blink and simply keeps staring past him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> were getting closer to the end :'( please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you like or hate, i live for those! ty for sticking w me <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis speaks, eli grieves, ocelot has a plan

The days go by and not much changes about Mantis’ condition. Eli spends as much time as possible at his friend’s bedside – much to the chagrin of the nurses and Feds frequenting the facility.

It is tough to stare at that lifeless body for hours and hours and watch all those tubes and catheters be replaced and cleaned. Mantis does not look anything like himself with that emotionless expression printed onto his features and after a while Eli can barely bring himself to look at his face any more, instead decides to hold Mantis’ hand or tell him stories while staring at the ceiling.

He falls asleep a lot, finds himself waking up with drool stuck to his cheeks or the clean hospital bedsheets – sometimes the nurse wakes him up roughly and sends him away to get some rest. Then he sleeps for what feels like days at the hotel room Ocelot has booked for him and eventually only gets up because hunger and thirst force him to.

Ocelot says it is more than just the shock and jet lag that have taken their toll on him – the sudden lack of connection while being in such a close proximity to Mantis must be hard to get used to, or so the old man theorises. Eli himself does not have enough energy left to muse about what exactly is causing him this shameful misery. It is obvious to him – and should be to anyone else, really – that this predicament of his is simply caused by seeing his dear friend in such a helpless and horrifying stare and learning about the details behind it. 

“You know,” Ocelot says one day while they are watching the nurses change Mantis’ bandages from behind the screen. “I believe part of the reason his current state is this severe is the result of the close relationship he had with Wilson. The impact must have been so traumatising – just think of how it would have ended if you had completely overpowered Mantis’ mind instead.” 

Eli visibly bristles at those words and bares his teeth at Ocelot. “Are you implying that what this guy did to Mantis’ was in any shape or form similar to what we had with each other?” 

With a shrug Ocelot leans against the wall.

“It seems likely, yes. From what I hear their relationship went beyond the norms of, well, what is considered appropriate for their circumstances. The reports clearly show that, even while you were still staying with Mantis, he spend most of his time visiting Wilson making only little progress on his actual assignment – it is generally assumed that they spent their time with, ah, _different_ activities instead of working on the case.”

Something deep inside Eli’s stomach twists and causes a wave of thick disgust to rise within him, the feeling so eerily familiar and reminiscent of buried and tainted jealousy from his past that he has to steady himself. 

“What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“Oh you know – rumours – even the FBI as those going on.” Ocelot twirls his moustache for a second as if in thought and then adds: “ _Especially_ the FBI.”

Barely able to focus on what is happening behind the screen any more, Eli has to concentrate all his willpower on not just jumping the old fucker right here and there. 

“Ah,” Hums Ocelot. “I was not aware that this information would upset you so much, had I known that you and Mantis were – “

“ _Are_. We are. We – “ Eli tears at his hair and – for what feels like the millionth time – curses the uncomfortable memories its length causes him. “I know we … had –, certain disagreements, but we were closer than you could ever even bloody comprehend so don’t you dare compare this sick shit to us. Mantis is – “

“Interesting.” Ocelot interrupts and scrutinises him not bothering to hide his questionable curiosity at all. “Even regarding interpersonal relationships you subconsciously strive to deviate from your father’s influence as much as you can.”

Eli unceremoniously shoves him away and flees back into Mantis’ room, only to be chastised by the busy nurses again. 

  
  
Mantis does not get better and the longer Eli spends by his bedside the bigger his disgust grows; the pressure of all those unanswered questions causes him headaches and he can barely touch Mantis any more without his mind forcefully delivering vivid images of repulsive, hairy hands roaming over that skinny body. 

The distance between his visits grows shorter and shorter, Eli barely sleeps any more and instead converts his lacking energy into a feverish manic urge to stay at Mantis’ side at all times. He refuses to let the nurses work him unsupervised, suspicion growing ever stronger n his chest, and eventually even takes to cleaning and caring for his lifeless friend by himself as much as he can. 

The nurses tell him that if he can not follow the facilities’ regulations he will not be allowed any further visits.

So Eli makes a decision.

He checks Mantis’ room for cameras and microphones, his paranoia is to overwhelming to not to, and when he fins himself satisfied by their apparent absence he sits at Mantis’ side and begins to share his plan with the unconscious body next to him. 

“It’ll be real simple; I get you out of here when they are busy with the other patients or on break – we’ll just have to make do to sneak by the guards, but I am not above getting my hands dirty here anyway.” Eli strokes his fingers over Mantis’ cold hand. “You will be alright soon, Mantis, I promise.”

Mantis does not reply.

“You –, We will be like before, okay? I’ll even stay with you in America, if you want that. I do not need to –.”

Eli buries his face in his hands, he can feel his sanity slipping and despite being wired to act on the instincts that were bred into him, even he recognises a terrible plan when hears one. At this point his only option is to ask Ocelot for help, but his pride will not allow him to sink _that_ low. Ever. 

He anxiously wipes his face and tries to ignore the wetness running down his fingers – be it sweat or tears. 

_Clack_. 

Eli flinches at the sound and looks around – the stupid empty plastic cup on Mantis’ bedside table has fallen to the linoleum floor and again Eli wonders who’s funny idea it was to put a cup right next to an unconscious person. With a grumble he leans down and puts it back where it belongs. 

_Clack_. 

The cup is back on the ground and Eli blinks in confusion before again leaning down and slowly placing it back on the table, carefully watching Mantis’ face. 

Then, Mantis blinks and the cup falls again. 

“Oh my god… .” Eli whispers and grabs at Mantis’ sheets. “I’m here. You know that, right?! Mantis? You know that I’m here!” 

Without being touched the cup rolls forward and knocks against Eli’s boots. He quickly picks it up again. 

“Mantis, are you –, I swear I –, I am going to get you out of here! We’ll be fine. Please, can you do that again? With the cup?” 

He points at it and stares at Mantis’ lifeless features. A few minutes pass, but nothing happens. 

Eli dares to try again and again; asks for Mantis to move various objects in the room, to simply blink or breath irregular – anything somewhat akin to communicating with him. 

But nothing will move, and Mantis stays silent and motionless. 

  
  
He does not visit for a few days after that. Ocelot drops by his hotel from time to time to remind him to eat and to update him on Mantis’ ever unchanging condition.

“You know, I’m surprised he’s doing that well, physically, of course. They said that his wounds are healing well and that the surgery check-ups went without any trouble, even his weight is becoming less off a problem.”

Eli is curled up on his bed and sluggishly munching at a tomato sandwich.

“How much shit are they pumping into him for that to actually happen. He still looks very skinny.”

“Well,” Ocelot starts and crosses his legs. “the lack of physical exercise and the amount of nutritional supplements they are feeding him sure play a big part in this. Though I doubt he would allow any of this to happen if he were awake.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Mantis can take care of himself – mostly – and he just simply doesn’t like to eat a lot, it’s not like he is actively trying to starve himself.” 

Ocelot hums. “It isn’t?” 

Eli proceeds to kick him out of his room, only to have him come by the next day again. 

  
  
The next time they both visit Mantis around the same time and Eli reluctantly agrees to share the precious time he gets to spend with his friend with Ocelot. He does not mention the cup incident though, the old man does not have to know about any of his plans to get Mantis out of this shithole. 

For some ridiculous reason Ocelot keeps bringing flowers to put into a little vase next to the door, though the nurses seem to appreciate the gesture and maybe it is just a charade after all; the caring and worried uncle that Ocelot manages to portrait eerily well. 

“I just like flowers.” He responds when Eli calls him out on it and does not delve further into the topic, though there is a faint smile playing around the corners of his mouth that should not look as authentic as it does.

Eventually Mantis’ bandages are removed and between the patchy stubble of newly grown red there is a sharp pink scar running across the right sight of his skull, not yet matching the older and faded ones around his hairline. The stitches are thick and the nurses say that it is too early too remove them but Eli just stares and absent-mindedly runs his fingers over them before getting told off over the infection risk.

When he arrives the next day Ocelot is already waiting for him. 

“We need to talk, Eli.” He says.

“Don’t call me that.”

Ocelot makes sure the door is shut behind them and ushers Eli into the chair before carelessly sitting down at the end of Mantis bed, eyeing Eli with caution. 

“You have seen it happen too, haven’t you?” He says at length. 

Eli raises an eyebrow. 

“ _It_? What do you mean?”

Ocelot leans forward and takes Mantis’ hand in his to squeeze it lightly.

“The way he reacts – look – and moves things with his powers.”

Eli stares at the old man and then looks at Mantis who is unmoving as always.

“Ocelot, I don’t know what kind of sick game you are playing here, but I am _not_ having it!” He gets off the chair and pulls Ocelot off the bed to grab him by the collar. “Do you think I’m stupid?! If anything was going on with Mantis I would be the first to know, I know you just set this whole damn thing up, so for once shut up that old, ugly mug of yours and piss off before I – “ 

Suddenly, without a warning, the vase behind them bursts into a thousand little pieces of sharp glass , scattering the flowers – now torn and ripped – all over the ground. 

Eli slowly lets go of Ocelot, who simply points at Mantis wildly blinking eyes.

“I told you.” 

“M-Mantis… .” Eli gasps and is at his friends side in less than a second. “I’m sorry, I - “

Ocelot walks up beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder, seemingly to only dust off a few stray particles of glass. 

“Eli,” He whispers, way too close, and sneaks his hand underneath Eli’s coat to press a gun into his hand. “It is time; we are getting him out of here.”

For a moment Eli just stares at him with wide eyes, then nods.

He takes the gun.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli yells, ocelot cheats and mantis hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge apology here for not updating in so long, i went through a really rough patch in the past two months... i got sick and really depressed and had a lot of irl stuff on my plate so i never found the time to really focus on basic mind but we will be back to the regular scheduled program now!!! thank you for your patience <3

Lead by his overwhelming frustration and helplessness, Eli accepts Ocelot’s offer reluctantly and is guarding the room’s door with sweaty hands and furrowing brows, heavily questioning his decisions while the old man rummages around at Mantis’ bed.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me about this in advance? We could have planned the entire thing together in more detail before rushing in and just improvising?!” he hisses at Ocelot.  
  
“Oh that’s simple.” Ocelot replies while carefully separating Mantis from his IV. “If I had told you before we got here you would have most likely given us away to security immediately.”  
  
Eli stares at him.  
  
“W-What makes you say that!? I am a _stealth operative_! I was specifically trained for missions like this, how dare you assume that I –“  
  
“Swallow down your ego for one second and shut up, will you? This is no mission, it is a personal matter for you. Even if you do have some useful skills, you are utterly useless as lying your way out of a situation like this.” With swift movements he pulls out the catheter tube from underneath Mantis’ hospital gown and Eli can not help but finch at the _sound_ of it.  
  
“If you plan to _talk_ your way out of here – why the gun then? Do you have any more ammo for reloading? I am screwed If I run out after only a few shots at the guards!”  
  
Ocelot scoffs. “You probably won’t be using that, it’s only got a few rounds left anyway.”  
  
Eli quickly curses the old fuck and quickly checks his Glock.  
  
“What in the _bloody_ fuck did you give me this for then!?”  
  
“Intimidation.” is the simple answer and with a slightly exasperated sigh Ocelot props Mantis up into a sitting position and leans him against his shoulder. “Good thing the kid weighs almost nothing.”  
  
Eli narrows his eyes at them; he would rather handle Mantis himself and seeing the old man get his hands all over his friends’ unconscious body leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. To his relief Ocelot’s ancient bones apparently can not support the weight sufficiently, or something, and he motions for Eli to take over.  
  
“Stay here for a minute, will you?”   
  
Nodding, Eli adjusts the limp body in his hold and swallows hard.   
  
Mantis is warm – warmer than he remembers him being and well, they have not been this close since Eli had left for Iraq. Feeling Mantis’ head loll against his shoulder washes over him like a nostalgic wave wrapped in an entirely new, alien emotion and he presses his face firmly against his friend’s neck to inhale slowly, completely ignoring Ocelot who returns only to watch him with a raised eyebrow. It does not matter. Eli _knows_ that Mantis is glad to be that close to him again.  
  
“Are you sure he is… healthy enough to leave?” he asks.  
  
“No, but I have no intention of staying in DC any longer than it is necessary and at this point I do heavily doubt that, well,” Ocelot leans a bit towards them. “Mantis state will change beyond what we are already seeing now.”  
  
Eli adjusts Mantis’ weight in his arms and shoulders him gently.  
  
“What do you mean? He is _trying_ to communicate, and he _is_ getting a lot better! I don’t want him to stay here either but if it helped him then –“  
  
Ocelot sighs theatrically and cracks open the door slightly to check the hallway.   
  
“I mean that they purposefully kept him sedated, do you really think they would just risk loosing this opportunity to examine the anatomy and inner workings of a real life psychic. Ah, I really should not be surprised you are still this gullible, should I?”  
  
“Shut up… .” Eli growls and follows the old man out of the door while trying to keep up with his bad leg dragging him down. Still Ocelot’s words echo in his mind because - _of course_ – he has suspected something along these lines but hearing it confirmed out loud makes him want to strangle every last one of the fuckers responsible for this.   
  
Their escape down the dimly lit hallway is relatively uneventful and surprisingly not interrupted by any suspicious nurses questioning them about their motives.  
  
Ocelot’s smug smile grows bigger and bigger the further they get and eventually he stops Eli with a jerk of his head.  
  
“Can you lower him down a bit? Yeah, like that. We don’t want those guards to think we are carrying around a corpse, do we?”  
  
Eli frowns and strains to hold Mantis against his side; his friend’s arms and legs flop around uselessly and make him look like some kind of sick rag doll.  
  
“We _are_ carrying around an unconscious person, Ocelot – how are you possibly planning to make this look _not_ suspicious. I can not believe this is your idea of a safe escape! How did you ever manage to work for the fucking GRU?!” Eli hisses over his shoulder back at the man.  
  
“Oh, trust me, they’ll be convinced we are just taking my dear nephew here on a nice little walk outside.”  
  
“What- What are you even talking about? Don’t tell me you are about to _bullshit_ your way through this?”  
  
Ocelot smirks at him and with that their anticlimactic escape proceeds; they probably still look very suspicious with Eli clutching Mantis to his chest like that, but the guard at the entry hall looks fairly unimpressed when Ocelot starts smiling and talking – words and useless information dropping from his mouth like sweet syrup from a carnivorous plant. The guy gives Eli a thorough look-over, which only makes him more antsy – if it was not for Mantis’ weight in his arms he would already have his fingers ghosting over the gun hidden beneath his jacket. He shifts around uncomfortably.   
  
“Sir, I understand your concerns but I’ll have you know that without proper authorization I can not allow you to leave the hospital like this. Clearly the patient is still – “  
  
Ocelot quickly interrupts the guard.  
  
“Oh! I swear I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached to my neck, my apologies! Here you go.” He hands the guard some kind of papers that Eli can not really read from where he is standing, however the guard studies them very intensely while Ocelot watches with that insufferable look on his face that makes the heat in Eli’s throat rise.   
  
“Ah, Sir, I’m afraid that this is not sufficient information for me to – “  
  
It is unbearable to watch the old man navigate through the poor guard’s mental defenses like that, Eli turns away and stares at the last two doors separating them from the outside door, then looks down at Mantis’ empty thousand-yard stare and swallows hard.   
  
_God, Mantis. I am so sorry I shouldn’t have listened to the old bastard._  
  
There is, of course, no reply. Just the same blank face.  
  
Eventually Ocelot sighs and watches impatiently while the man gets behind his little windowed post to make a call or something.   
  
“Damnit’, Eli. _now_.”  
  
“Ocelot,” Eli ignores him. “I don’t think Mantis is doing alright, – and my head hurts like hell – “  
  
“Oh shush, we’ll be out of here in a bit. Pull yourself together, you are a Snake, aren’t you?”  
  
In his irritation Eli just blinks at him and then groans when Ocelot leans down far enough to grab the gun from his coat.   
  
The gunshot cuts through the sick silence around them and he flinches and clings to Mantis even harder.  
  
“You said we weren’t going to kill anyone… ?”  
  
“I changed my mind.” Ocelot peeks through the cracked glass and makes a satisfied face – the guy must be as dead as they come. “Now get up, we have to get out of here before this good sir’s friends show up.”  
  
Eli pulls himself up on the wall and bites his cheek in sudden exhaustion. But the three of them only manage to get just somewhat close to the exit a shrieking alarm goes off and the lights start flickering briefly before the hallway goes on shutdown.  
  
“What now?” Eli laughs breathlessly at their pretty much hopeless situation and despite the looming consequences finds satisfaction in that smugness being wiped off Ocelot’s face.  
  
“Don’t worry.” The old man huffs and seemingly inspects the gun in his hand with pursed lips. “We’ll just wait until the reinforcements arrive – at least one of them is bound to have the card to turn this mess off.” He points towards the windowed guard-post.   
  
Eli coughs. “You are crazy.”   
  
But Ocelot just shrugs and he is _so_ ready to complain and yell and get violent, but before he can move Mantis suddenly tenses up in his arms.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Eli mumbles and feels Mantis’ pulse, brushing gently over the unflattering scars gracing his scalp. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here safely.”  
  
And then, for the first time in weeks, there is a subtle movement in Mantis’ lifeless expression; he blinks a few times before pressing his eyes shut, brows furrowing to meet on his forehead.  
  
He looks the way he does when Eli gets up too early in the morning to go jogging, – or when Mantis comes back home late from work and is so exhausted that he just falls down on the couch with his feet in Eli’s lap. It is just too familiar.  
  
“Mantis… .” Eli whispers. “I’m right here, you – “  
  
The second gunshot of the day interrupts him and makes his ears ring harder than the alarm that is already straining them, followed by a steady stream of curses from beneath Ocelot’s moustache as the old man kicks at the gun he just dropped a second ago.   
  
There is a pause, only filled by the blaring siren.   
  
“Do they not teach you trigger safety in Mother Russia?”  
  
“Oh, shut up!” Ocelot snarls, clearly out of his element and finally breaking that annoying holier-than-thou attitude. “I can handle guns better than you ever will. And besides, that wasn’t me – it went off by itself!” He points to the offending object to his feet. “The safety must still be on too, go see for yourself.”  
  
Eli is about to laugh at him but catches himself and looks down at Mantis’ face.  
  
“Bloody fuck… . Mantis, you almost sent the old bastard off!” He grins. “Why _didn’t_ you!?”  
  
For a second Ocelot stares at him in confusion before crossing his arms to look like a pissed-off oversized toddler about to throw a tantrum.  
  
“Oh? Sleeping Beauty picked the right time to come back to life, hm? How about you try and open the doors for us, then?”  
  
Mantis’ expression does not change, nor does he move at all, but Eli finally can feel his mind converge with his own again. It feels blurred and cautious, but it is there. The sensation is so damn overwhelming in comparison to the faint buzz that has reigned between them in the past weeks that Eli almost chokes on his breath.  
  
Dull banging sounds join the alarm from the other end of the hallway, announcing the arrival of whatever poor bastards they sent in as reinforcements.  
  
Ocelot scrambles to grab the dropped gun and throws it to Eli before getting out his own revolver.  
  
“Get ready… !” he warns.   
  
For way too long there is only the monotone alarm tainted by the sound of muffled rummaging behind the door and Eli anxiously clutches his Glock while shielding Mantis as best as he can with his own body.  
  
Then, finally the door makes an audible ‘click’ and slams open to reveal a handful of screaming and yelling guards with raised guns.  
  
Before Eli can shoot any of them, however, they drop to the ground like dead flies and start convulsing violently, scratching and biting at one another like wild animals. The wet sounds of flesh being ripped from bones and of blood and guts being spat out all over the floor echoes faintly in Eli’s ears as he and Ocelot drag Mantis towards the exit.   
  
“Now that _really_ was just unnecessary.” Ocelot chides in and pulls at the door’s mechanic. “Now, Mantis, would you be so kind?”  
  
“Give him a moment! We don’t even know how lucid he is right now, maybe he isn’t even able to control his powers properly!” Mantis’ face is pale and his eyes are still closed as Eli cups his neck to pull his head against his own shoulder.   
  
“We don’t have time for this.” Ocelot sighs and looks back at the dying guards behind them. “Though I suppose there must be a key card _somewhere_ in that bloody mess.”  
  
The alarm is not doing much for Eli’s headache but he still tries to push his desperate pleas and thoughts towards Mantis.  
  
_Come on, I know you can do it. I’ll get you out of there, we’ll be safe. Fuck Ocelot, we’ll get rid of him and get away from all this. I promise._  
  
He is faintly aware that he is just grasping at straws but not even exactly sure if he is promising these things to Mantis or himself.  
  
But finally the exit flies open – the impact of the metal doors slamming against the wall so strong that Eli almost loses his balance – and he and Ocelot exchange a look before getting the hell out of the place.  
  
“I’m never trusting you again!” Eli snarls while they make their way towards the parking lot, careful not to stumble over any more guards. “I can _not_ believe this actually worked!”  
  
“You’d be surprised,” Ocelot huffs as he gets behind the wheel of the conveniently inconspicuous car that has been waiting for them. “That wasn’t even the worst hospital extraction I supervised in my time.”  
  
In the back-seat, with Mantis’ body in his arms and their minds gingerly pulling together, Eli decides it is better just not to ask about it.  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ocelot has coffee, eli has questions

When Mantis wakes up the world around him falls back into place in an instant. Flexing his fingers and carefully turning his head left and right to soften up his sore neck and shoulders, he takes in his surroundings; the dusty comforter on top of him is heavy and scratchy, but fits right in with the gaudy interior of the unfamiliar room. It reeks of stale coffee and mothballs.  
  
But, despite the pain behind his eyes, Mantis does not feel too bad.  
  
Slowly, he sits up and silently stares at the man sitting at the tiny table in the corner for a bit before finally deciding to speak.  
  
“Where is he?” He asks in Russian.  
  
Ocelot looks up and his expression is hard to read, but behind the generally bored facade Mantis has become so used to here is something lighting up, even if it is just a calculated little smile.  
  
“Oh, you’re finally returned to the land of the living, huh?” The old man turns in his chair and raises his mug to cheer at him. “Welcome back! I sent Eli out to get some fresh air and food, he’s been pacing around like a tiger in his cage all day – needed some movement to come down a bit. And both of you could use a bite to get back on your feet.”  
  
“… .”  
  
“Coffee?” Ocelot does not wait for his reply and grabs another mug from the ugly, old cupboard to fill with the dark sludge before holding it out to Mantis, not bothering to get up.  
  
Careful not to tangle himself in the blankets Mantis crawls out of the bed and looks down at his scrawny legs poking out of a pair of way too big boxer shorts – the sleeves of the shirt he is wearing are similarly oversized and flap around his arms as he wanders over to the table to sit down.  
  
“Terrible… .” He mumbles into his mug and sips at the lukewarm, bitter fluid before making a face. “How can you drink this crap?”  
  
Ocelot shrugs and gets a small bottle out of his coat pocket to fill up Mantis’ coffee mug with vodka. “Easier to get it down like this.” He says and grins.  
  
The alcohol makes it easier to relax and fall back into the seat – Mantis sighs and stares at the ceiling, not daring to interrupt the eerily comfortable silence between him and the old man.  
  
His head feels like a ticking bomb, blurry memories and thoughts ghost around him and it takes what little self-control he has left to not just set the room and himself on fire.  
  
“So, what happened?” Mantis finally manages to ask.  
  
Ocelot makes an amused sound.  
  
“You snapped. Well, or you were _forced_ to snap – that is currently being debated. How much do you remember?”  
  
It turns out difficult to focus his mind on his memories but Mantis does try and hisses in annoyance and pain when he hits a dead end.  
  
“I killed _some_ people.”  
  
“You did, though you don’t seem too upset about that.”  
  
“Why would I?” Mantis takes another sip of coffee and crosses his arms. “If I chose to kill them they probably deserved it. And they were the ones who kept me in that place, the hospital, didn’t they?”  
  
“True.” Ocelot nods. “I suppose you could call that a form of, ah, self-defence.”  
  
“So why are we here? Why are  _you_ here? Eli doesn’t like you, he despises you, actually. And I swear, if you did anything to him to – “  
  
“Relax, Boy. This isn’t about Eli, or about me in any way. Take a moment and think real hard, did anything _change_? You do remember what happened before you got taken to the hospital, yes?”  
  
He does not. But Ocelot does not have to know that, either.  
  
“Of course.” Mantis says and holds Ocelot’s gaze while calmly emptying his mug.  
  
“You should be grateful we got you out of that place, Eli was worried sick. Next time you try to ruin your life maybe not try to pull others with you.”  
  
Mantis shrugs.  
  
“Eli left two months ago. I don’t understand why he came back.”  
  
Ocelot leans on the table and rolls his eyes.  
  
“Because he cares about you, idiot. When I told him what happened he immediately dropped everything in Baghdad to come see you.”  
  
“… .”  
  
He does not like that answer, does not like it at all because something inside him does not feel comfortable with being so opened up and close to another person. Mantis _can_ feel Eli, some kind of residue presence at the back of his mind – a mix of worry and a desperate need for affection that makes him feel sick to his stomach.  
  
“Where do I go from here, where are you going to take me?” Mantis asks. “I suppose the FBI is out of the question now, right?”  
  
With a chuckle Ocelot shakes his head.  
  
“If you want to go on trial for mass murder and be dissected in some kind of shady institution for the rest of your life – go ahead, be my guest! But I will do whatever I can to get you out of the spotlight, put the blame on your dear friend Wilson and your superiors for assigning you to his case when you were still just in training. Very irresponsible, if you ask me.”  
  
“I’m not asking you, though.” Mantis mumbles and crosses his arms. “What about Wilson, though? Is he…? He is still alive, no?”  
  
The old man grins at him in that disgusting way of his and Mantis is tempted to just let his ugly head implode, but restrains his urge last moment and takes a deep breath through his mouth.  
  
“Ah, you really doted on that guy, didn’t you? I’ve read his file – the manipulative type, didn’t expect _you_ to fall for that.” He raises his hands in a placating gesture when Mantis balls his own into fists. “Now, don’t get upset! We all have our weaknesses, I am simply surprised someone other than Eli managed to break through to you, and _that_ literally too. But, yes, it isn’t exactly clear what transpired between the two of you that day, though the Feds assume he… mentally overpowered you and caused a few unfortunate casualities. Essentially used you and your… trust for petty, ungainly revenge. It is a shame, really.”  
  
“But… –“ Mantis’ head starts thumping hard and relentlessly so he interrupts himself and stares at Ocelot expectantly.  
  
“They weren’t sure if you eventually gained control back and attacked him or if he orchestrated some kind of extravagant suicide. All I know is that they found you with his dead body.”  
  
Silently Mantis nods and flexes his fingers – Ocelot raises an eyebrow.  
  
“You were close, huh? He wasn’t just a substitute for Eli, there was something about his mind that caught your eye.”  
  
“Shut up. You don’t know anything about this.”  
  
The coffee in Ocelot’s mug starts bubbling and he sets it down carefully.  
  
“Oh, but I know _you_ , Mantis. I know how prone you are to hanging onto the lips of people you deem fitting for the gap in your life – you crave nothing more than attention, be it positive or negative. That doesn’t matter.”  
  
“I said _shut up_!” Mantis yells and the cup bursts into a thousand pieces, spilling coffee and shards all over Ocelot’s lap. He curses and gets up to shake off the worst of it before making his way over to the adjacent bathroom, muttering under his breath.  
  
Then something light flares up in Mantis’ mind and turns his head, still breathing heavily, to stare at Eli who is standing in the doorway.  
  
“What’s going on here?”  
  
The genuine care and worry oozing off Eli is almost comically heartbreaking, yet Mantis just nods and watches still as his friend drops his grocery bags to quickly hurry to his side.  
  
His smile is too big and too bright and he gets way too close up into Mantis’ space.  
  
“You’re awake! How are you!?” Before Mantis can even say anything Eli interrupts him again and keeps going. “I brought us some food, Ocelot said he is gonna take us to some kind of safe house near the border – guess we’ll stay there until things calm down.” He grins. “I’m so glad you are back. I was worried about you.”  
  
“Mh.” Is all Mantis can reply, too overwhelmed to really come up with anything more creative than that.  
  
“Now, don’t be too excited, you aren’t going on vacation.” Ocelot calls from the bathroom. “You’re lucky I know someone to take care of the security footage from the hospital – and Mantis is still wanted for murder. You are going to have to lay low until we can get you out of the States and have all this covered up.”  
  
Eli sighs and grimaces at the mess on the table.  
  
“Getting along well, I presume?” He whispers.  
  
Unable to really focus on his words, Mantis shrugs meekly and tries to concentrate on the mess between their minds, to bring some order and structure in there. Eli does not seem to have noticed the changes in what was once their connection, and Mantis is eternally grateful for that, because it would be such a hassle to pretend and keep up any false play of closeness between them.  
  
“I worked with him for years, I can deal.”  
  
Eli opens and closes his mouth and then awkwardly shuffles back to the door to grab his groceries. Mantis watches him carefully and notes the messy hair, a fresh tan and better physical health – all in comparison to the last time he saw him. Somehow his friend’s recovery has been improving more without Mantis present. Huh.  
  
Despite the total disconnect of sympathy towards Eli he tries to reconnect and reach out because this new total lack of comfortable feeling and relation is painful and scares him too much to just accept it like that.  
  
“Well, you two play nice and stay here. I will have to make some calls now.” Ocelot whistles and walks past them, shirt and coat still stained with coffee but confidently ignorant of his filthy clothes. “Do not leave the room, understand?”  
  
With that the old man is gone.

“Are you hungry? You probably haven't eaten real food in weeks, huh?” Eli smiles and sits down next to Mantis, hands him some kind of pre-made sandwich and pokes the porcelain shards on the table. “You remember what happened back at the hospital?”  
  
“You got me out.” Mantis says at length and starts cleaning up the mess on the table.  
  
Of course Eli’s smile quickly fades and makes room for a perplexed yet still somehow hopeful expression. Mantis does not feel guilty about disappointing him, he just is uncomfortable with the assumed position Eli takes at his side.  
  
“You slept for more than a month. They cut you up and shaved your hair… . Ocelot said it should grow back but I got you a hat just in case – the, uh, scars could be a giveaway when we are on the run.” He pulls out a very ugly, very turquoise baseball cap with the logo of what Mantis assumes to be their motel and a little creepy embroidered bear on it out of the bag.  
  
“Sorry.” Eli cocks his head apologetically and shrugs. “That’s all they had.”  
  
“These clothes are yours?” Mantis feels generous and decides to ignore the souvenir atrocity in front of him. “The pants are too big, they barely stay on my hips.”  
  
“Uh, yeah. Figured you weren’t comfortable with trying on Ocelot’s stuff, so… .” Suddenly Eli seems very insecure and lost and tries to avoid Mantis’ stare. “Are you sure you are alright? I mean, you’re acting a bit… – “  
  
He cuts himself off, does not finish and just stares at his feet.  
  
Mantis lets out an exasperated sigh.  
  
“I am fine, Eli. However, I also just woke from what you tell me was a one month coma, so I assume it will take some time before I get used to all… this“, He gestures between them. “again.”  
  
“Yeah, I – . Yeah. That makes sense. Sorry, I’ve been awake non-stop for like two days.”  
  
As Eli goes to lie down on the bed and get some rest, Mantis decides to continue to wordlessly stare at the terrible wallpaper until Ocelot finally returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 comment = one day with pure happiness for the author
> 
> im serious pls tell me what u think of my bullshit i will love you forever


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli is frustrated, mantis does not care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i actually planned for chapter 14 to be the last basic mind chapter buuut things happened and we arent where i want to be yet so.... bare with me for a bit longer

After insisting on delivering the boys to that ominous “safe house” of his personally, Ocelot drops them off with a very unceremonious goodbye and the clear instruction to not leave the place until he lets them know it is alright to do so. He hands Eli a phone that apparently is unable to be traced back – which both of them heavily doubt – and drives off into the sunset in his shitty rental pickup truck like the cheap Cordell Walker imitation he embodies these days.  
  
Eli turns his head to Mantis who is just staring down the road absent-mindedly in his too big pants that have been awkwardly secured with an ugly leather belt, somewhat fondly running his fingers over the material.  
  
“You wanna go inside, check out the place?”  
  
Mantis does not look at him and just shrugs before getting out a cigarette from god knows where and puffs little balls of smoke in Eli’s general direction.  
  
“The old bastard didn’t even bother to leave me with a new mask, huh? Whatever happened to the one I was wearing?” He asks at length between drags.  
  
Eli frowns and grabs their bags to make his way to what looks like the child of shabby little hunting cabin and a miniature air-raid shelter in front of them.  
  
“’Suppose those sick fucks at that ‘hospital’ took it away, they needed access to your head after all.”  
  
Mantis seems to consider that for a moment before stretching, cracking his neck, and following behind him in that nonchalant way he has adapted lately ever since waking up.  
  
“I think I actually took it off before the incident.”  
  
“Why the fuck would you take your mask off in a public place?” Eli slams the key into the door and kicks it open. “You knew what would happen if it got too bad, you’re not that stupid, Mantis.”  
  
“It was _not_ a public place.” Mantis bristles and brushes past Eli, disappearing in the only other room their tiny new home has to offer.  
  
Despite his better judgement Eli decides to leave Mantis brood and not start any potentially aggravating conversations for now – instead he inspects their new living space with a scrunched up nose and opens whatever is there in terms of windows to get some fresh air inside.  
  
Before settling in and sorting out their stuff into the metal lockers beside the entrance he dusts the place with an old shirt and – after some searching – finds a broom to get the worst of the dirt out of the bigger room.  
  
When Mantis finally emerges from what turns out to be the bathroom the first thing he does is discover the lack of a second bed and gets all fussy over it, much to Eli’s irritation who did not expect this to turn out to be an issue at all.  
  
“We shared a bed in D.C. too, what’s the problem now?” He says, carefully deciding not to bring up the fact that they never really had troubles sharing their sleeping spaces before, so as not to upset Mantis in this weird new state of his any further.  
  
Mantis goes quiet for a moment, clearly searching for a valid reason to build his bullshit excuse on, before settling on “Ocelot did this on purpose to get a rise out of me!” and successfully avoiding to give an actual proper answer.  
  
But Eli’s frustration has gotten past the point of pretending not to care and so he sets down the broom, walks up to Mantis and gets all up into his personal space so he can _not_ be ignored any more.  
  
“What the hell is going on? What did I do?” He hisses, sounding more pathetic than he would have liked.  
  
“What do you mean?” Mantis’ voice is so shrill it becomes obvious that he knows exactly what Eli means.  
  
“I know you’ve been through a lot, I get it – I’ve been there – but what I don’t understand is why you keep snapping at me and treating me like a fucking stranger! Did you actually forget what we -, who / **I** was to you or are you just pretending you don’t remember for the sake of some sick selfish convenience?! What the fuck did I do wrong?!”  
  
Mantis blinks and stares at him for a second before averting his eyes, the expression on his face unreadable.  
  
“Answer me!” Eli spits and grabs Mantis’ arm to shake him lightly, too desperate to care about his own or the other’s pride at this point.  
  
The tension between them is electric and there is almost a bit of that old spark that used to make Eli feel full and whole, but somehow _something_ is off and it makes him hesitate to open his mind further to Mantis’ secretive probing.  
  
“It’s alright.” Mantis eventually mumbles. “We can share the bed if you want to – “  
  
“Do you really think _that_ is what this is about?!”  
  
“If you would just accept the fact that I am not… the same, that I feel– different after what happened, it would make everything much more manageable for us, Eli.”  
  
Eli opens and closes his mouth again and shakes his head before pushing Mantis away.  
  
“So it’s my fault everything’s gone to shit now?”

“Are you talking about before or after you ran away? Because otherwise I would have to give you two different answers.” Mantis still seems a bit blindsided but looks at Eli with harsh condemning eyes. “But apparently not much has changed, since you still do not bother to try to understand what _I_ am – “  
  
His fist moves faster than his mind and the ugly noise Eli _feels_ runs through his knuckles as they collide with Mantis’ jaw is much more terrifying than what he can actually hear. Still his friend’s body folds together like a piece of paper as he crumples to the floor, whimpering like an abandoned dog.  
  
“Oh – Shit! _Shit_!” Eli is beside him in the blink of an eye and tries to assess the damage he himself has caused, the previous moment flashing in front of his eyes again and again while he wipes his thumb over the little stream of blood running down from the corner of Mantis’ mouth. “I’m so sorry Mantis – I am so, _so_ sorry! I don’t know what happened I just – “  
He slips his hand behind Mantis’ neck and tilts his head back, the ugly baseball cap that Mantis agreed to wear for some ungodly reason falls back onto the bed and underneath the flickering, shitty light of the room he stares up at Eli, eyes dark with anger.  
  
“Get. Out.”  
  
His voice is low and threatening and before Eli can even reply or act, he feels himself pushed away from Mantis, out of the door and into the tiny hallway where he ruefully realises that he has majorly fucked up this time.

   
  


Despite – or maybe because of that little escalation they quickly fall into a semi-peaceful coexistence that is mostly held intact by Eli doing his best to keep to himself. Though Mantis does not exactly make it hard for him since he simply leaves the room with a dramatic sigh and locks himself in the bathroom when Eli is there.  
  
Of course it quickly gets crowded in the little space they do have, but luckily Ocelot chose a place in the middle of nowhere and so Eli gladly resumes the morning routine he had already established back in Washington. Getting up as early as possible is a welcome salvation from having to sleep on the dirty ground of their cabin and sneaking away from a still-asleep Mantis even more so.  
  
Eli goes to run in the woods everyday, and in spite of explicit warnings not to go outside at all, he never really meets anyone except for various forest critters that quickly disappear when he stumbles through the scrubby underbrush at dawn. Obviously he stays out as long as he can, sometimes even until the afternoon until the need for food and a warm shower drive him back to the place of inevitable confrontation.  
  
Just like in the days prior this one, he is not surprised to find Mantis lounging on the bed, still unwashed and unkempt, sucking on cigarettes like his life depends on it.  
  
“Did you eat already?” Eli asks and slides behind the small kitchenette, pushing already used pots and pans aside to prepare the usual plain porridge. Mantis ignores him as usual and pointedly turns to face the wall while getting ashes all over the sheets. Eli is actually kind of thankful for it, because there is still a very nasty bruise blooming across Mantis jaw that he _really_ does not like to look at for too long. He eats in silence and boredly skims through one of the terrible novels they have found underneath the bed, joining Mantis childish game of silently avoiding each other.

  
  
  
Around the evening Ocelot calls, he does that every few days, and Eli really has no idea if the old man has already fooled himself into believing the caring uncle act or if he is genuinely concerned for their well-being.  
  
As usual Mantis picks up before Eli even gets a chance to and starts cheerfully chattering in Russian. At this point it is easy to tell that he is just trying to get a rise out of Eli by suddenly being all buddy buddy with Ocelot, though despite the need to call him out on it Eli decides against it and irritatedly claws at the coarse fabric of his jeans.  
  
Mantis finally finishes his little monologue just as Eli is done with the dishes (not like Mantis would contribute anything to keeping their shared living space clean) and holds out the phone to him before disappearing into the bathroom like he does so often. Eli can hear the water running through the wall which means his friend is very unsuccessfully trying to subtlety distract Eli from the fact that he is currently trying to dig around in his mind. Most of his more mundane thoughts stay out in the open, but Eli has been trying to practice to not grant Mantis free entry to all of his mind any more – the results are mixed but at least the other does not comment on the fact that Eli is onto his little private espionage scheme.  
  
After all that time working for secret services Mantis may have simply forgotten that he can not just hide his more invasive powers from Eli.  
  
Ocelot quickly walks him through updates on the most pressing issues and Eli learns that his own name is pretty much clear in the whole “abducting a potentially dangerous subject from a federal institution” matter – however Mantis is a whole different story. Apparently Ocelot underestimated how difficult it would be to make people believe that the abducted subject had simply died in a very botched extraction, so now everything is on hold until things have calmed down enough for him to be allowed out of his exile, as Ocelot calls it.  
  
“Oh, by the way, Eli!” The old man says as they are about to hang up. “If you want you can already leave. Since I’ve got your name clear you don’t even need any false identities or the likes – you are free to go wherever you’d like!”  
  
“What? You’re giving up your convenient babysitter just like that? I don’t think Mantis would make it a week without me cleaning up after him, to be honest.”  
  
Ocelot snorts and the phone line cracks dangerously.  
  
“Well, it is up to you! I’d be glad to have one less worrisome idiot to take care of, so think about it. And tell him to stop tapping the phone, because that is just rude, don’t you agree?”  
  
“Will do.” Eli says, his eyes narrowed as he stares at the bathroom door, and hangs up.  
  
The water is still running, but something inside Eli keeps him from holding back this time – maybe it is the new found promise of getting out of this place or just all his frustrations bubbling up and spilling over finally. He walks up to the bathroom and pulls at the door, finding it locked or psychically glued to the frame or something, but he does not budge and gives a short warning before breaking it open with all of his weight thrown against the battered wood.  
  
Mantis is just sitting there, crouched on the closed toilet lid and looks at him with wide eyes while the sink slowly overflows.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry I hit you –“ Eli starts and interrupts himself to clear his throat awkwardly. “But we need to talk.”  
  
And slowly Mantis nods.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis opens up, eli closes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO sorry i couldnt update sooner; my laptop was broken and had to get repaired but now i finally got it back and will try to deliver ~ biweekly updates... were close to the end anyway... oh boy

After the bathroom is cleaned up Eli sits Mantis on the bed and awkwardly folds his hands in his lap.

“This can't go on.” He says and through the mosaic shards of their mental link Mantis seems to reluctantly agree. “Look, I don't just want to assume how you feel, but – I'm not stupid.” 

Mantis raises a thin eyebrow but Eli refuses to be deterred by that not so subtle skepticism.

“I can tell you are miserable too, you know.” 

“Wow, Eli. How observant you are –“ 

But Eli does not let Mantis finish and cuts through his bullshit sarcasm without really thinking it through.

“I want you to tell me what happened back at the FBI. I want to know who that Wilson guy is.”

“Wilson died that day – there isn't anything else to know about him.”

Again Mantis is drawing up his  defenses and Eli can tell that if he dos not act quickly he will lose this rare chance of a peaceful conversation. But he has to be careful when Mantis is already so on edge that he feels no matter  _what_ he will say – it will not do to please the other.

“You wouldn't just care about any random nutcase you were assigned with. Clearly there must have been something that was so special about him it piqued your interest.”

“I do not see how that information would benefit us in solving our current conflict in any way.”

Eli sighs deeply and  smooths back his hair, pulls his knees up to his chest and stares at the ceiling. This is nothing new; Mantis always has been stubborn as hell, a trait he had probably drawn on by being so close to Eli through most of their formative years – but something here runs deeper than just that mirrored old  unwillingness to sit back and give in to compromise. There is hesitation radiating off Mantis in thick waves and dimly Eli realises that he has not felt anything this  unambiguously clear from his friend in years, even before the accident.

Despite not being great at negotiating like this himself, Eli tries his best to keep his head focused and guarded, mindful of any potential psychic infiltration attempts.

“You wouldn't have agreed to talk to me if you weren't at least somewhat open to the idea of trying to make this work.” He attempts. “So let us just –“

“Making _what_ work exactly?” Mantis cuts in and snaps against his wrist with a rubber band from one of the dubious 'care' packages Ocelot has sent them in the past few weeks, presumably found among all those packs of cigarettes and small bottles of vodka Mantis had quickly sneaked away to stash behind the cabin in his naive secrecy.

“Well, let's assume we are going to be staying here for a few more weeks – perhaps months – with how things are going right now I suggest we start developing some kind of, uh, arrangement.”

Mantis shrugs. “I think things are going fine.”

It pains Eli to say it, but the situation is becoming so increasingly frustrating that he just can not hold back.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Lightly touching his fingers to his own cheek Mantis turns away and frowns, Eli realises that he has finally landed a hit against his friends childish  defenses.

“You don't have to tell me everything,” Though Eli would prefer if he did. “I get it – it's not something you can just talk about like that. And I know what that is like.” 

Even though it  seems like Mantis is ignoring him, Eli just knows the other is interested in what he has to say, for better or worse.

“Just –, please try to be more open with me, or something. I know it's easy for you to just look into my head, but I can't do the same; so I need you to tell me what's going on with you instead of lashing out.”

“You haven't exactly proven yourself to be willing to compromise either, Eli.”

“That’s because you are being so hostile all the time!”

Mantis sticks out his tongue. “So it is my fault? Is that what you are saying?”

With a groan Eli unfolds his limbs in  irritation . 

“Stop twisting my words, you know exactly what I mean!” 

Mantis flashes him a smug smile and digs up a cigarette. 

“Are we done here? I can do without you unloading your selfish frustrations on me under the pretense of a peaceful coexistence. You obviously only care to make this easier on yourself.”

“So you admit it _is_ difficult for you, too? What about 'everything being fine'?”

Mantis looks caught and for a second it seems as if he will snap at Eli, jump him and rip out his throat or worse; but he does not and simply lights his cigarette underneath a resentful glare.

The little hairs on Eli's neck rise and stand up and frankly he has to actively resist his flight or fight instinct because despite his seemingly passive gestures Mantis is threatening – daring him to go further and beyond so that inflicting harm on Eli would be finally justifiable.  
  
Or maybe he is just being paranoid, who knows.  
  
Even if his perception has suffered much in the past few years, his receptiveness towards Mantis’ mind has not; and still, after whatever disturbing shit has happened at the FBI he can manage to see some of the hidden intentions there.  
  
“Oh, spare me with that sentimental crap… .” Mantis snarls; a commentary on his thoughts; and puffs smoke in Eli’s face. “Yes – I am unhappy and irritated, but that can barely be a surprise to you, it is a pathetically common state for me and has been, even before –“  
  
“So you are just gonna wallow in your misery and project all your personal little tragedies onto me? That’s real classy of you, and very much in character I dare say.” Eli is vaguely aware that he is long past entering dangerous territory, but pushing past that rising cluster of shared emotion would mean abandoning this sweet nostalgic connection in front of them.  
  
And there it is; Mantis’ glare turns into fire – and so does the cigarette between his fingers, a blazing moth in his hand that rises up into the distorted air around him.  
  
“You are really set on being the winner in this, aren’t you Eli?” His words are laced with acid and spite, Eli grimaces at the sudden spark of mental pressure put on him. Mantis continues and carelessly presses deeper into his mind. “I have always disliked this about you, you know? So much of what you do and say is build on this false idol of mutual benefaction, but in the end it always just turns out to be in your own interest. This is what I hate about humanity, too, and in your case it has become easier and easier to have that simple dislike turn into something very… similar.”  
  
All Eli manages at this is a hollow laugh, because the things said have met their purpose fully.  
  
“So you’re willing to let this,” He gestures at the space between them. “To let _this_ go for some petty hypocrisy? I take it you are aware that you’re just as bad as I am?”  
  
Mantis smirks through the smoke and the subtle glow of tension.  
  
“Oh, I am. And that is exactly why I hate it so much. You _made_ me like this.”  
  
“ I was _made_ like this too… .” Eli counters, unsuccessfully.  
  
The dimly lit room, fogged up by cigarette smoke and that vaguely threatening reddish glow Mantis has been giving off for the better part of their conversation flashes before his eyes and turns into a muddy projection of a stolen memory, grey walls moving in on Eli, in that cell he has spent way too much time in – and this is how he recognises he went too far, Mantis following him without hesitating.  
  
Before the well buried and cherished anxiety can sprout and spread its roots however, they are back in their shitty little bunker, far away from cold desert nights and dull, empty pain.  
  
Eli notices too late that his breath is running heavy – much to Mantis’ malicious glee – and hugs himself cautiously.  
  
“Excuse me for stepping so low,” Mantis whistles. “But I simply couldn’t help myself any more. How about this though, to make it up to you I will tell you all about what happened with Wilson?”  
  
Drawing air in through his teeth Eli nods tiredly and runs a hand through his hair.  
  
“Go on.” He encourages.  
  
Mantis idly raises himself up into the air and floats towards the bed, seemingly lounging on a non-existent recliner, legs pointedly crossed above Eli.  
  
“Hm. But wouldn’t it be nicer if I just showed you? I take it the old man has already given you a rundown on that boring old story anyway. I think we will have more fun witnessing it first hand?”  
  
Eli frowns up at him.  
  
“Mantis, I don’t want entertainment. I want to know what happened so I can… understand you better.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me, you’re being selfishly curious here most of all.” Mantis adds with a hostile tone to his voice.  
  
Well, all he can do is shrug and smile sheepishly, despite his discomfort.  
  
And apparently that is all the consent Mantis needs to turn the room into a cell again – this one however is nice and light and furnished with all accommodations a convicted criminal on death row could possibly ask for and more.  
  
Eli finds himself on a quite comfortable chair; eyes the wall lined with bookcases and paintings, the tiny television set in the corner and the ridiculously ugly carpet on the floor. Prisoner living like a king, it seems. Of course the room still has that sterile feeling clinging to it, unable to shake off its true purpose despite all the misleading comfort.  
  
It is only then, after the facade has cracked, that Eli spots another person seated behind a desk in the other half of the room. It actually takes him a moment to realise that, yes, that is Mantis; still wearing his stupid suit and mask, a mess of short red curls poking out between the straps of it.  
  
“I don’t… – “ Mantis’ voice is so small and broken that Eli is genuinely shocked for a second before settling to curiously watching the other struggle against the seemingly invisible confines of his chair.  
  
Something is trying to dig into his mind and he willingly opens himself up, but there is a struggle – a certain confusion.  
  
_What are you doing?_ The thoughts are echoing through the room, not directly hitting Eli’s mind but rather filling him in an intimate, desperate way.  
  
Then suddenly he feels himself speak, foreign words forcing their way through a mouth that is his but not _really_.  
  
“You really don’t seem too well, agent. Maybe you should take that mask off – you can barely breathe like that, can you?”  
  
Behind the lenses of the gas mask Eli can see Mantis’ eyes; wide with fear, clear and honest, something Eli has seldom seen in his friend; an unguarded expression so pure that it draws an eager emotion from his chest.  
  
Mantis gets up from his chair and staggers towards him on shaking legs, raises his hands and for a second Eli is convinced that Mantis will surely attack him – his body language in a seething dissonance with the look of terror reigning his features.  
  
Then they both watch in terror as Mantis’ slowly undoes the clasps of his mas and pulls it down, it slips from his fingers and falls onto the ground with a hollow ‘thump’.  
  
Before either of them can really process what is happening Mantis gets even closer; his face white with fear, the dark bags underneath his eyes only intensifying his frightened stare – before collapsing on the floor right in front of Eli’s feet.  
  
He leans down from his chair, carefully plucks a stray lock back behind Mantis’ ear and pats his cheek in an almost condescending manner.  
  
“Now, now. Agent, don’t tell me you have been hiding that pretty face from me this whole time _just_ because of a few little scars.” Mantis’ expression is empty as he lies unmoving. “But I suppose now that you’ve finally opened up a little the two of us are bound to have lots of fun together, huh?”  
  
Eli cradles the frozen figure beneath him up into his arms and gently pulls off his coat.  
  
“Relax, my dear. It’s just the two of us now.” He fights hard to keep control over himself, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards to form a wolfish grimace. “Let’s make some noise.”  
  
The next few minutes pass in a flash; Mantis slowly unfolds himself, touches his shaking hand to Eli’s face, a last glimpse of helplessness in his eyes before he completely succumbs to whatever demonic energy between them forces him to rise up, float upwards and spread his arms in a fashion eerily similar to that pose he used to take so much as a child.  
  
As if tied to his front row seat Eli watches with fascination as the room starts to vibrate; shake, to be engulfed in flames and embers, the fire alarm following shortly after and sprinkler uselessly spraying water that immediately evaporates in the burning air. But the fiery spectacle ceases almost as quickly as it began and leaves them in the dark with only the shrieking sirens blaring in the hallway.  
  
Mantis makes short work of the panicked and confused guards, picks them apart fastidiously before sinking back down in Eli’s lap, his fingers and face speckled with hot blood. He caresses Eli’s shoulders, his cheeks – his touch tender and loving in a way.   
  
Eli speaks but the words fall from his friends lips instead, nothing more than a whisper.  
  
“It is time.”  
  
Then he is bitten and kissed almost playfully, a sharp pain running up his chest and into his neck as his air ways close and any leftover feeling around him slowly fades out.  
  


  
  
Eli comes to with a gasp, clutching his own throat and sucking in air with every strained breath.  
  
“You –! What –, what was that?”  
  
Mantis eyes him suspiciously from where he has curled himself up on the bed like a cat.  
  
“You know exactly what that was, Eli.”  
  
“So Ocelot was right… ,” He murmurs, panting. “You really killed and fucked that guy.”  
  
With a laugh sweet as honey Mantis turns on his back and grins at him. “He really said that? Who knows what that old fuck fantasises about at night – you saw what really happened.”  
  
Eli grabs his wrist, fingers digging into that damn rubber band.  
  
“But you had _something_ with him, you –“  
  
“I do not belong to you!” Mantis hisses and turns his smile into a scarred frown. “Is this really all you care about?! Do you not care about knowing what happened to me, that I was hurt, no – damaged?!”  
  
Something in Eli snaps – again – and his grip on Mantis tightens.  
  
“Do I not _care_!? How can you fucking say that after the way you treated me back in Washington – like I was a fucking broken toy you had to fix to play with some more! How can you accuse me of all this after doing it yourself; doing _worse_ than me even!?”  
  
Mantis gapes at him for a second before a darkness settles on his features, then unceremoniously pushes Eli off the bed and throws him against the shelf with a violent psychic shove – books and magazines raining down on him as he holds his aching head.  
  
Before the other can force Eli’s head to collide with the wall again he forces himself to his feet and drags Mantis off the bed with him to the ground and suddenly it is like they are  kids again – this new violence between them so familiar yet alien; an intimate emotion of physical closeness as they push and shove at each other, Eli’s nose dropping blood onto Mantis’ chin as he pushes him down harder against the concrete floor.  
  
They could kill each other right there, but for some dumb reason they do not. Even if Eli really wants nothing more than to die right now and he knows, no, can _feel_ that Mantis does too.  
  
But instead they fight like rowdy children until they are both writhing on the ground, gasping for air, before then – finally, _finally_ – sharing a kiss filled with  way too much teeth and regret.  
  
And Eli hates it. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they have fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been sick so writing progress has been slow but im tryna keep disciplined... also getting excited for supply drop yay! bear with me

 Eventually the two of them pull apart, Eli with cold sweat pearling down the sides of his face, fingers digging tightly into Mantis’ hips and the other arm slung around his shoulders to roughly pull him away from the cold ground and onto the abandoned sleeping bag.  
  
“You taste like shit.” Eli says after kissing Mantis again and pushes his shaking hands underneath the other’s sweater – it has been getting colder lately, they are long past a golden autumn – and carefully draws his nails over prominent ribs and pale flesh.  
  
Mantis just glares resentfully but still raises his arms to let Eli get better access and leans up to bite at his earlobe.  
  
It is a familiar spiel, the physical closeness between them intimately practised – even after such a long interruption they fall right back into their acquired positions; Mantis crawling into Eli’s lap, whispering sweet and terrible little nothings against the other’s skin, never shy to use his teeth.  
  
Yet the aggressiveness between them changes this mundane routine and something deep inside Eli burns and pushes and claws its way out of his body to engulf Mantis, make him succumb to Eli’s desires and anger and he is both overwhelmed and ecstatic as he pushes his friend off and onto the ground again.  
  
“No.” he growls and watches the surprise and arousal clouding Mantis’ eyes. “Don’t treat me like this.” _Like an invalid, a toy, a whore.  
  
_ But Mantis just grins and pulls Eli back down to bite; scratch at his shoulders; and lets out an obscenely performative moan when Eli thumbs his chest and presses a rough fingernail against his nipple. Whatever it is that has taken control of his mind – his body – urges him to pull that ugly sweater over Mantis’ head and latch his mouth onto that so forbidden newly exposed skin. Mantis just kicks his legs uselessly and digs his fingers into Eli’s sides, but his head falls back nonetheless and hits the dirty polyester of the sleeping bag.  
  
“Did you practice while I was asleep?” Smiling idly, Mantis curls a strand of blonde hair around his finger. “Or did you just finally stop holding back?”  
  
“Shut up.” Eli growls against him and gropes at his ass and lets himself be slapped once; twice; in retaliation before grabbing Mantis’ wrist and twisting it behind his back. Mantis hisses in pain and suddenly Eli’s limbs feel like they are on fire – he does not let go though and reaches for the other hand to effectively pin Mantis to the ground.  
  
“Playing dirty?” He drawls and flashes his teeth at Mantis before biting his neck. “You are so obvious, Mantis.”  
  
“Oh please, don’t pretend you have _not_ constantly thought about fucking me ever since you gave me that black eye.”  
  
Eli bites him again, harder, and Mantis whines quietly.  
  
“I can give you another one if you want.”  
  
The following pejorative laughter is all it takes to spur Eli on further and let his mouth wander down Mantis’ body, leaving bruises and teeth-marks on its way before stopping at the sharp hip-bones poking out from underneath the waistband of Mantis’ way too tight pants.  
  
They proceed quickly, urgent to reveal as much skin of each other as possible and for the first time in years Eli feels a resurgence of lust – a genuine want and not just a dull pavlovian arousal. This is instinct, this is real – and when he finally gets those damn pants off Mantis he looks him up and down; bruised and too skinny and all smug and demanding. The heat in Eli’s abdomen becomes unbearable and he quickly strips off his own clothing in a haze; so inpatient that he gets his shirt stuck over his head and has Mantis help him accompanied by sarcastic commentary.  
  
“If I had known that being mean is all it takes for you to get this… enthusiastic, I would’ve done this a lot sooner.” Mantis coos and licks a trail up his jaw.  
  
Eli has no mind to reply verbally, just roams his hands over the other’s body roughly, trying to map it out and take in as much as possible. Shamelessly eyeing Eli’s crotch with clear interest, Mantis makes no secret of what he really wants, but they’re not there yet – Eli is not done with his exploration; desperate to feel another person’s skin against his own.  
  
There is a lot of biting, scratching and nasty insults; some with and some without honesty behind them; but they keep spurring them on and Eli seriously can not remember the last time he has felt this alive and real.  
  
“Eli – come on.” Mantis voice is not more than a whiny growl as he presses his palm flat against Eli’s stomach.  
  
“Since when are you this easy? Did that Wilson guy keep you on a short leash?”  
  
Mantis glares at him and draws deep red scratch-marks all the way from Eli’s navel down to the base of his dick.  
  
“I told you; I did not fuck him.”  
  
Eli grins and presses him down against the sleeping bag, pinning Mantis again to bite his neck deeply.  
  
“So _he_ fucked you then, huh?”  
  
Immediately he can feel his head fall dizzy and his limbs go heavy – Mantis pulling one of his stupid little tricks to shut Eli up and it works; Eli busies himself with grinding against Mantis’ thigh, teeth still on his neck and hands pressing down on his shoulder and hip to keep him in place.  
  
“Good boy.” Mantis breathes shakily but despite the condescending language they both know that Eli has the upper hand right now – even if Mantis likes to pretend otherwise.  
  
They fall into a rhythm with each other, lined with teeth and the press of nails. But they are close and Eli feels warm and safe and at home – not letting himself be disturbed by Mantis’ snorted laugh at his line of thought.  
  
But soon the comfortable warmth turns into an oppressive heat and Eli notices his breaths growing shorter.  
  
“Mantis, can we – Do you have any… ?”  
  
Mantis just laughs again. “Did you really think Ocelot supplied us with condoms?”  
  
No, of course not – why would the creepy old fuck do him any favours? Eli bites his lips and tastes his own blood and maybe he is just imagining things but he feels it does not taste as sweet as Mantis’.  
  
He figures he can arrange himself with this; even if his dick feels like it is on fire, grinding against each other does not seem too bad either.  
  
“Idiot.” Mantis hisses and grabs at Eli. “I don’t care, just hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind.”  
  
Eli is stunned for a moment but somehow is body moves on its own, distracted and lured by open-mouthed kisses and small words of encouragement. He tries to think of the last time they something like this, but his memories always directly lead him back to that clumsy and terrible night in Berlin – despite knowing hat they had sex back in Washington too.  
  
But this is genuine and easy – for the first time – even if it takes a moment to adjust after that first uncomfortable stretch, both too overwhelmed to really move at all for a bit.  
  
Eli can hear himself curse quietly as Mantis spreads his legs further around him and feels their mind fit together just as perfectly as their bodies do – just for a moment. The initial few thrusts are uncoordinated and slow but quickly turn hard and fast enough to make both of them pant.  
  
Instead of not moving at all, frozen in juvenile fear, or taking over completely – this time Mantis is just responsive enough to spur Eli on further and moves with and against him to make it all easier.  
  
“You know,” Eli mumbles when Mantis roughly reaches for his ass to dig his fingernails into the skin there. “I-I don’t care if you fucked him, because right now – ah, you are _mine_.”  
  
Mantis just smiles and presses two fingers against Eli’s lips.  
  
_Come on. Suck.  
  
_ Eli does not understand but he _does_ do as he is told and opens his mouth to gently lick and nibble at the intruding digits – Mantis presses down on his tongue and carefully traces along the line of his teeth to the back of his mouth to touch his soft palate, all while curiously watching Eli’s expression.  
  
“Don’t throw up on me now, or I’ll rip out your tongue.” Mantis whispers very much matter-of-factly, still keeping a firm grip on Eli’s slowing hips with his other hand.  
  
Eli mentally prepares himself for more of the oral interruption, heavily breathing through his nose because every little movement reminds him of how hot and tight Mantis feels. But the fingers leave his mouth as quickly as they have entered and when he feels something warm and wet prod at his ass he pauses.  
  
“Mantis – !” He gasps and finally stops moving completely but Mantis just shushes him and pushes his finger inside – Eli’s eyes fall shut and he groans deeply, even if this is not much in terms of penetration the sensation alone causes him to squirm.  
  
It is unfair, really, because Eli has to keep moving, forced by that damn biological imperative that makes his hips snap forward – but as soon as he moves back the fingers inside him are all the more present and have him grit his teeth in frustration when Mantis hooks them in deeper. All he can do now is fight and try to come out on top, pushing harder and harder until they almost slide off the sleeping bag and Mantis is mewling and dragging his nails across Eli’s insides.  
  
Then the lightbulbs burst in a flash of electricity and Mantis loses his hold, lets go off Eli and desperately starts clawing at the hands closing around his neck but his meagre protests quickly die down as they come to a halt.  
  
_Eli. Keep going._ Mantis demands but all he gets is the full weight of his friend collapsing on top of him, Eli burying his face against Mantis’ bruised neck and gently kissing the reddening flesh there. They lie still for a moment, until Mantis gets restless and starts shifting his hips upwards again – more rubbing himself against the other’s body than really thrusting – while carefully petting Eli’s hair.  
  
“I’m sorry – “ Eli begins but Mantis catches his lips with his teeth instead.  
  
“That’s fine.” He whispers, clearly out of breath by the sheer force of Eli’s orgasm. “Do it again.”  
  
And Eli does, waits patiently for Mantis to finish off himself, tenderly wraps his fingers around Mantis’ neck and strokes his jugular vein, applying a bit more pressure here and there.  
  
When Mantis finally comes with a stifled curse he just stares down on him in apathy.  
  
“Get off me, you big oaf. I wanna go to bed.” Mantis yawns after a moment of catching their breaths and crawls onto the mattress to pull the blanket over himself. “I don’t mind if you join me tonight.”  
  
But Eli is already up and getting dressed again.  
  
“I’m going to go for a run.”  
  
“What? It’s dark already.” Lighting the second cigarette of the evening, Mantis squints at Eli through the light of the flickering flame dancing between his fingers. “You’re gonna trip over a dead branch and break something. Don’t expect me to come looking for you, in any case.”  
  
Eli nods and leaves quietly, leaving Mantis to sit alone in the dark and his afterglow.  
  
  
  
When he finally returns the world around him is already grey in anticipation of dawn and Eli is soaking wet from the constant drizzle reigning over the area. He kicks off his shoes and strips off his soggy clothes and spends a moment of naked contemplation just standing in the middle of the room.  
  
Mantis does not move when he slides into bed to wrap an arm around him and press closer to soak up some of his friend’s warmth.  
  
Eli has almost fallen asleep when a small voice drags him out of his daze.  
  
“When this is all over let us go to Iraq. Let us find them all and make them pay for what they did to me.”  
  
And only then – when Mantis turns in his arms to flash a devious grin at him through the darkness – Eli realises that it was himself speaking.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mantis leaves, eli is found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry i was unable to update for a while, i was hit quite hard by someone close to me passing away this month and needed some time to mourn and collect myself  
> also im still working on supply drop fills on the side! ill try to have this finished before the new year though! love u

After dipping his fingers hastily into the creamy substance, Mantis carefully applies it to his face; pressing it into the dents and bumps of his scars. It does not cover the damage completely, and the colour is a little off too, but it is enough for him to nod at his reflection in the mirror and resume his work.

The powder is a bit trickier – that little applicator gets it everywhere and soon he finds himself sneezing and coughing, trying to fan away the powdery cloud surrounding him. 

Mantis studies his own image fastidiously and is shocked to find the he almost looks normal – of course the worst wounds and stitches still shine through, and the texture of his face is not exactly ideal either – but if he takes a few steps back it works and Mantis touches his own cheek in awe. 

The hair in not really salvageable, though, patchy little bits of red curls trying to force their way out from beneath his fresh surgery scars. He looks more like an ugly, sick bird than a person, but that is what hats are for after all. 

The moment he puts it on his head, still starring into the mirror, Eli suddenly pops his head into the bathroom and Mantis curses himself quietly for not keeping a better eye on the fool. 

Eli opens his mouth as if to say something but then just gapes at Mantis with the most idiotic expression.

“What are you looking at?” Mantis asks, frowning and his friend, still straightening up and putting his face on display though. 

“You look– is that…?” Eli scrambles for words and it is funny enough for Mantis to snort disdainfully.

“Yes, it is. Got a problem with that?”

Eli looks surprised and shakes his head defensively. “N-No! Not at all!” He shrugs awkwardly. “But where the hell did you get hold of make-up. And, uh, why?”

“Ocelot sent it to me in the last supply package we received, says my face is too much of a risk being recognised – since my scars are not exactly… subtle.”

Eli does not say anything, still keeping up that dumbfounded stare though.

“Masks are also too obvious, so I have to play a little dress-up before the old man comes to pick me up.”

“Wait, he’s coming to pick us up today?! You could have told me about that sooner, give me some time to pack my bags maybe?”

Mantis sighs. “You are not coming with us, Eli.”

He can feel the hurt and confusion before it shows on Eli’s face, Mantis tries to raise his arms to calm him, but he stumbles closer and grabs Mantis by the shoulders, disbelief in his eyes.

“You can’t just leave me now!” Eli exclaims and shakes him lightly. “Not after what we– what you promised! You said you’d go back with me and –“  
“Eli, calm down. To do that I will have to go get out of here– out of the States first.” He takes a generous step back to remind Eli to keep his distance. “We can meet up again somewhere on the outside, perhaps even in Iraq if Ocelot gets all of this sorted quickly.”

Eli, silly loyal Eli, gets closer again and reaches out to Mantis. “Why can’t I be there? I don’t like you hanging around with that old fuck, especially if you’re… dressed up like this. He must be planning something, why else would he help us.”

He just can not help it, but Mantis snorts and pats Eli’s arm condescendingly. “How often do I have to remind you; I don’t belong to you, or anyone else on that matter. And also –“ He clicks his tongue. “Ocelot and I are many things, but not that.”

Turning his head to stare at the make-up and then back at Mantis, Eli grimaces, somehow a little flustered.

“Well you do have a track record of really ‘hitting it up’ with old men, so don’t get mad at me for–“

With the blink of an eye Mantis snaps his friend’s mouth shut. “Stop assuming these disgusting things about me, jealousy does not suit you well.”

Eli looks down at the dirty bathroom tiles with the pitiful expression of a wet puppy. He has been so possessive and clingy ever since their little escapade – they are still sharing the bed, Eli’s little nest on the floor abandoned and eventually rolled up and stashed in a corner.

There is way too much touching going on for Mantis’ taste, despite making it clear to Eli that the sex had been a one-time thing for them. He still keeps trying to get closer than Mantis likes it and more often than not got rewarded with a hefty psychic shove after being too eager to invade Mantis’ personal space. 

Of course Mantis is well aware that all of this is his own fault – keeping Eli at distance and denying him affection, and even just the lack of acknowledgement of any attempt to get closer on his side has been an obvious flaw in Mantis’ logic. One he is very well aware of and willing to risk though; isolating himself is the only way to keep a clear mind and with just the idea of physical touch and vulnerability being enough to send Mantis into a nauseous, withdrawn state he knows better than to unleash all that onto Eli – who still is picking up the crumbled pieces of his own life himself. 

Mantis likes to rationalise himself being so withdrawn and cold with the reasoning that this is all first and foremost for their combined emotional and mental safety. Thinking back to how turbulent and intense their relationship had been back in D.C. it only seems appropriate to learn from the mistakes Mantis has become increasingly aware of, even if he does not necessarily regret them. 

Still he lets Eli come even closer, shaking arms pressing him to the other’s chest, make-up smearing against Eli’s cheek and forehead.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe.” Eli mumbles against his shoulder and Mantis nods before gently pushing him away.

“We’ll stay in touch.” Mantis assures him and proceeds to check his reflection again. “I am sure we won’t be separated for long.”

He has come to the conclusion that projecting his own insecurities and discomfort onto Eli is only contra-productive, causing them both to be on edge and way too aggressive – for his own peace of mind Mantis has decided to approach everything with a bit of a cooler attitude, even if the abrupt switch from cold shoulder to heated arguments to respectfully distant codependency has not exactly been easy on Eli.

Maybe he really is selfish, though Mantis tends to not waste too much thought on that notion. 

 

For a change Ocelot only arrives a few minutes too late, the first thing he does is giving Mantis a very deliberate double-take before greeting Eli who quietly nods and carries Mantis’ bags to the car. Ocelot leaves him a new phone; a new number to call – and that is it.

Mantis is charitable enough to pretend he does not hear Eli telling Ocelot to make sure he stays safe – almost threatening the old man to keep Mantis from any harm until Eli himself can be there to ‘protect’ him again. 

And then, just like that they are off; Eli being left behind, his waving figure becoming smaller and smaller until they eventually take a sharp turn to the left, causing him to finally disappear from the review mirror completely. 

 

“No, that’s way too tight on you, try the other one.”

Mantis shoots Ocelot an annoyed glare and fumbles with the waistband of the dark leather pants he has picked out for himself. “I told you to wait in the car – it might surprise you but I am very much capable enough to dress myself.”

“And I told you I wanted you to buy new clothing, not crash a sex shop and grab all their bondage gear.”

“For the last time; this is not a sex shop, and this isn’t bondage gear. And even if it happened to be – if you had waited outside you wouldn’t have to bother with any of this!”

Leaning back on the little grubby chair he is sitting in, Ocelot raises an eyebrow and points at what appears to be a line of riding crops being displayed neatly on the wall next to him.

“That is just for decoration!” Mantis shrieks. “Get out, you cretin! You have no eye for aesthetic anyway!” 

Ocelot sighs and shakes his head, but gets up and leaves the store nonetheless. Better leave the kid to figure this stuff out by himself, as long as he gets it done quickly and without looking like he did before the whole serial killer thing went down. 

It is rainy outside, just like Providence to provide them with the perfect weather for their depressing little trip. Ocelot would rather have avoided it all together – he has better things to do than to clean up after some maniacal overgrown child but sadly he also holds certain… responsibilities that keep him tied to the boys.

He rolls his shoulders and opens his umbrella before getting out his phone, putting the number in with wet fingers.

“ADAM?” Is the immediate reply and Ocelot smiles faintly, realising how much he has missed hearing that voice. 

“He’s waiting for you now, though he doesn’t know about his luck yet. Promise me to go easy on him, I need him to be able to function when you drop him off with me. Eli is still… recovering, even if he doesn’t look like it.”

“I didn’t expect him to, frankly I’m surprised you managed to convince him to come back to the US at all. After everything that happened… .”

Ocelot taps the umbrella thoughtfully. “You would not be surprised if you knew how much Eli cares for that psychic boy – he’d do anything for him. In fact it is quite... nostalgic to watch the two of them interact.”

“Getting more sentimental with age, I see?”

“Oh, shush. You always liked to interpret more into my words than there ever was to them.” With that he leaves the address; Eli’s exact location and a few more directions on how to execute this whole plan. Afterwards he hangs up and throws the phone into a nearby sewer without further ado. 

It takes another hour of waiting in the rain until Mantis finally walks out of that store – clad in black leather and belts, a huge shopping bag hanging off his skinny arm. 

“Looking good.” Ocelot remarks in sarcastic politeness, which only earns him a very rude gesture and the honour of carrying the newly purchased spoils of capitalism to the car.

 

It has been only three days since Mantis has left and Eli swears that he is slowly going crazy; after getting up early for his morning run he had been sure he had spotted a figure in the clearing next to the cabin, heard some unusual noises too.

He had hidden in the bushes for a few minutes, trying to figure out who or what could have come close enough to this place, paranoia running through his body in a steady stream. But eventually he had chalked the little disturbance up to a particularly adventurous deer steering off too far from its group on the search for food or shelter.

The runs do him well though – the cold morning air burning in his lungs, making it hard to breathe and focus are a welcome challenge and sensation to his body. He has been feeling numb again, trying to lure out that lost feeling of being alive with all the ways of stimulation he can think of. Still physical exercise proves to be the best way to keep Eli from staring at his gun for too long before he has to snap himself out of it in resigned terror. 

At noon he sees the figure again, unmoving underneath the trees in front of the cabin and Eli thinks about what to do about it for a while, quietly running his fingers over the bed sheets that still smell like cigarettes and Mantis. 

It is easy to come to the conclusion that he is being watched, which feels threatening and a threat can only be countered with a bigger threat or surrender and Eli would sooner die than choose the latter. 

He grabs his gun, his knife – curses this place for not having any windows and only one exit – but then decides that intimidation is his only choice in this. Taking a deep breath, Eli kicks the door open and holds the gun into the direction he expects the figure to be hidden.

But there is no figure in the bushes anymore; instead the stranger is standing right in front of him now, maybe a bit shocked by his more than impolite greeting, but otherwise smiling at him in a way he can not figure out yet.

“Who are you!?” He barks. “How did you get here!?”

The stranger, a woman, blinks at him – raises her hands to cover up that smile of hers and to wipe a few tears from her eyes. 

“My god, look at you… . You’ve grown so much, I can’t believe it.” She says and puts a hand on his outstretched arm, his own still holding on to the gun. 

“Who are you!?” Eli yells again but before he can do anything else she shakes her head and wraps her arms around him and something inside him just clicks as he drops the gun on the ground carelessly to stare at the mess of blonde hair beneath his chin. 

“I know you.” He whispers quietly, almost mumbling into her curls.

“Of course you do!” The woman exclaims happily and looks up at him with wet blue eyes. “I am your mother after all!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli is back, mantis leads on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please pardon my long absence, i started school again and everythings been so busy... but well get through this. almost done. i swear

Considering the circumstances there is not much time for Eli to contemplate his mother’s arrival or to even think too much about her existence in general.  
  
Sure – he has always known that even someone of _his_ origin would have a mother, even if there would not be any relation by blood to her.  
  
He is a bit taken aback by her warm demeanour though, but she seems to sense his uncertainty and introduces herself as _EVA_ , which Eli supposes is some kind of code-name. Thankful for the alternative he decides to refrain from calling her “mother” for now; it just seems too far away and somehow inappropriate.  
  
EVA urges him to pack up his things, because yes! - he is finally leaving this terrible place and gladly grabs his few belongings to throw them into his duffel while EVA waits outside with her bike. Despite being glad to get away he ends up standing in the middle of the living space for quite a while, just staring at the bed, the shitty kitchenette and the dirty concrete floor.  
  
No, he won’t miss this at all, Eli decides.  
  
“Is that all?” EVA asks him when he steps outside. “That doesn’t look like much, considering how long you took.” She throws a helmet at him before putting on her own.  
  
Eli simply nods and climbs into the side-car, wedging his bag between his knees. EVA looks down at him and has to avert her eyes as she laughs quietly.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She waves her hand and revs the motor. “I know it’s not comfortable, but it is always hilarious to see a grown man stuck in that thing.”  
  
Before Eli can reply they are off and he does not dare looking back as they drive.

-  
  
  
The airport is busy when they arrive and EVA makes a solemn face when she gives him his new documents and ID.  
  
“Kopenhagen?” Eli asks and stares at the ticket in his hands.  
  
“Yes, we’ve arranged it so that you and Mantis can meet up in Europe again. I don’t know what you plan to do beyond that but Ocelot advised it would be better if you two stayed out of the States for a while-”  
  
“Have you met him?”  
  
“Ocelot? I haven’t talked to him face to face for a while now but –“  
  
“No, I meant Mantis.” Eli interrupts her.  
  
EVA looks at him a little bit surprised but straightens out her face quick enough for Eli to actually doubt if he saw any change in her expression. “He’s been staying with Ocelot, so I haven’t met him personally yet, no. But I was told you two are close?”  
  
Not really sure how to respond to any possible implications Eli just shrugs and nods, not oblivious to the way EVA smiles knowingly at him.  
  
“You know,” She starts and leans onto her bike, idly watching the passer-bys. “I am aware that I can not expect much in terms of... familiarity from you – god, who would I be if I did. I am not entitled to calling you my son simply because I carried you in my womb.”  
  
Eli feels an uncomfortable awkwardness rise in his chest, a burn in his throat that keeps him from speaking at all. He decides to just let it simmer and to later pretend that this moment never happened at all.  
  
“I could never keep myself from looking into how you were growing up, sure you were off the map a few times but usually Ocelot managed to get wind of what you were doing after a while. When I heard what happened to you in Iraq I just was unable to keep my promise of letting you be. But– If you do wish for me to become more _involved_ in you life I could arrange that… .” She seems solemn but collected and Eli is relieved to find her expressions mirror his own a lot in terms of discomfort and tension, but there is that little bit of a certain graceful poise there that he can not  
really assign to any familiar character in his brain – no matter how frantically he tries to. “Despite my own personal feelings towards you and your brother, I always have been aware of what I signed up for when I agreed to join the project back in the 70s, I knew you were to be taken from me and yet-”  
  
“… I appreciate that.” Eli’s words are too fast and loud, too forced, but the relief on EVA’s face is enough for him to be satisfied as he shoulders his bag and tries to offer her a reassuring smile. She opens her mouth to talk but her unspoken words are interrupted by the announcement of Eli’s flight – so she just squeezes his arm with way more strength than he expected from such a petite person and wishes him well.  
  
-

  
It takes Eli several hours into his flight to process the recent events and he is already halfway across the Atlantic when he is hit by the realisation that there is a part of his family he does not want to see dead.

-  
  
“You’ve got a new mask.” Is all he says out loud to himself when his mind clicks back into Mantis’ as his plane is landing at Kopenhagen-Kastrup. It is so familiar and disgustingly _comfortable_ – he hates that he has missed sharing his mind space with someone else, especially with how relaxing it had been to just be alone inside of his head for once.  
  
For some reason Mantis does not dignify him with a reply until Eli is already walking out of the arrival gate and even then all he gets is a halfhearted greeting – no physical contact despite the almost gravitational pull that their connection burdens them both with.  
  
“I thought Ocelot was going to be here too.” Eli hums as he climbs into their minicab and sets his duffel between himself and Mantis. “I was told you were staying with him.”  
  
Even though Mantis is wearing a mask again, Eli can just tell that he is narrowing his eyes at that.  
  
“He helped me get out of the States, that’s it. Dramatics and secrecy is all he’s good for nowadays, anyway.”  
  
Eli does not bother to mention that the old man has seemingly found the perfect student in Mantis then. Of course his friend can easily read that thought, but if he is too bothered he does not let it show.

 

It turns out that Mantis has been hard at work doing what he likes to call “research” - though Eli feels that whatever ways he has used to gather information are bordering on being obsessive.  
  
“I am trying to help.” Mantis says sourly as he spreads out the pages and pages of random military records, insurance and employment files and even copies of people’s birth certificates.  
  
Eli does not know if he should be worried or impressed.  
  
When Mantis shows him the list of names he has gathered, he decides on the latter.  
  
“Where did you get all this stuff? You don’t even speak Arabic, nor French-” he points at one particular document. “More than half of these are classified!”  
  
There is a little bit of pride in Mantis’ voice as he speaks and taps his fingers on their fancy hotel table. “Well, I still have _some_ ties to the former Soviet Union – and they are being all nice and chummy with certain factions in the Middle East. It was not hard to convince them to share certain information with me.” He makes a dismissive little noise in his throat. “Ocelot did everything related to the West – I hardly can show my face to the FBI any longer.”  
  
Eli nods. “How do we narrow these down then?”  
  
“Well I took the liberty to verify who most of the people that are responsible for your… predicament are – the official records show that the camp you were held in was located somewhere in a deserted little village in the Al-Dibdibah desert. Apparently the villagers didn’t leave voluntarily either – those insurgents needed a place to build up a base considering the war was nearing its end while they still weren’t done with their conflict.” Mantis pushes up his mask far enough to light a cigarette and suck on it greedily.  
  
Hearing all this wrapped up in such a calculated and distant language, Eli stares at his knuckles and watches them turn white and red and white again as he flexes his hands. Mantis says all this as if he is reading from a book, but as pathetic as Eli thinks himself to be because of this – he can _feel_ it.  
  
“The camp was raided by US forces on the Twenty-first of May this year and they reported most of the enemy soldiers as dead – which means there is not much left for us to do, sadly.” An evil little smile wraps around the cig between Mantis’ lips.

Eli sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair. “Mantis, I swear-”

“I’ve got Eight names for you.” Mantis breathes. “Cowards! Ran away thinking they could go without punishment for what they did to you – now they’ll be _begging_ for some useless, pretty American to kill them.”  
  
_Eight_. Eight people he has to kill to be able to sleep at night again – that’s not that much, Eli can do with that.  
  
Laughing, Mantis leans back and dips some ashes onto the carpet. “I’ve got a flight to Baghdad booked for the day after tomorrow. You might as well enjoy the room-service, I doubt we’ll have anything similar camping out in the desert.”  
  
  
It is reminiscent of Berlin, but somehow their situation is so different now and Eli watches Mantis move around the night life of the city – instead of skirts and woolen scarves he is now wearing tight leather pants and black studded belts – chasing some kind of nostalgic satisfaction that he knows they both can not find anymore.  
  
-

Baghdad is still warped by the war, not much different from how it had been when Eli had left it last - he tries to enjoy the people, the food, the small room they are sharing much to Mantis dismay – but the ever looming threat of what they are about to do has him distracted too much to really pay attention.  


“These two went back to join the army? Does the military not care at all about who joins their little club?”  
  
Mantis is sitting cross-legged at the little table across from Eli and using some important document to fan air at his face. “They probably dropped their radical views for convenience. Changed their stories and attitude-” He makes a face at the tea-cup in front of him. “Ugh, this is way too hot.”  
  
“That’s when it tastes the best, though.” Eli chastises and takes a sip from his own cup. “They are stationed in an air base not far from here – if we steal a jeep or truck we could get there in just a few hours.”  
  
“It’s not like we can’t afford transportation, though I would prefer for you to get some proper weapons before sneaking into Al-Iksandariya unarmed.”  
  
“I don’t need anything fancy – I know a good smuggler who used to bum around in the ruins by the outskirts, maybe we can track him down.” Eli adjusts his keffiyeh and gives Mantis a look-over. “And you better get some proper gear, you are not seriously intending to run around the desert wearing that, are you?”  
  
They bicker a little and it almost feels a little normal – planned murder included.  
  
-

 The first kill goes faster than anticipated; Mantis clears the way for Eli and they infiltrate the base with almost comical ease. The two ex-insurgents are stationed in different areas but Mantis filters them out of the crowd and before he actually realises what he is doing Eli has stabbed one of them in his bed, mutilating the poor guy’s face beyond recognition.  
  
He can feel Mantis’ gleeful shadow looming at his side all the way through it.  
  
At this point he does not care if he drags a trail of blood through the barracks – it is as if there is a blinking light in his mind signalling his next target and Eli stumbles through hallways and past unconscious guards to find his victim.  
  
_Don’t you want to draw it out a little? Have some fun?_ Mantis teases in his mind and pulls the second man away from his post to present him to Eli. _Look how scared he is – ask him if he recognises you, Eli._  
  
Eli does, feeling sick to his stomach.  
  
The man tries to beg for his life but Mantis shuts him up with a wink of his hand, still not doing more but holding the guy in place for Eli. _Make him remember._ He edges on.  
  
“.خنزير" Eli whispers quietly and starts cutting.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli gets a haircut, mantis helps out

Eli wipes some sweat off his brow as he pulls back his keffiyeh and sits down in a black leather chair in front of the big mirror covering the wall.  
  
“This seems like a normal barber shop to me, Mantis.” He speaks in Kikongo, quietly, as to not alert the locals.

“You are a spy, aren’t you? _You_ should know that things are not always as they seem.” Mantis brushes Eli off and also sits in one of the waiting chairs behind him, carelessly grabbing a frayed, stained magazine and proceeds to pretend to read in it. “Besides, I don’t understand why you think speaking in English would give us away – I doubt anyone would be surprised by two white foreigners doing just that.”  
  
It is unlikely that Mantis is trying to irritate Eli on purpose, yet he manages, mostly due to the fact that he is kind of right, but Eli is paranoid – if this barber shop really housed one of the insurgents the risk of being recognised is a valid concern. Also he is not exactly convinced this place is not just some store front for drugs or smuggling either.  
  
After being served some frankly delicious tea by a young boy and trying to keep up a mostly inconspicuous conversation with Mantis Eli finally is approached by the barber. He has been watching the man from the corner of his eye for a while – he seemed to be doing good work judging by the other costumers, still Eli feels an uncomfortable shiver when the guy touches him to run his fingers through his hair.  
  
“.مساء الخير" Eli mumbles after being greeted, switching to Arabic. “How much for a haircut?”  
  
“10,300 Dinar! You have very nice hair, akhi. It almost looks like threads of gold in the sun, that’s a rare sight these days.” The man gets out a little case with scissors and razors and spreads it on the table to his side. “I will give you a shave for free since you are very clean already.”  
  
Eli has to restrain himself from instinctually biting the man’s hand as he pets his cheek.  
  
“Ahmed!” He beckons the little boy closer. “Get our akhi some more tea, will you?” The boy nods and disappears into the back.  
  
“I’m fine.” Says Eli and watches his own knuckles turn white in his lap. “Don’t cut it too short.”  
  
“Just call Ahmed if you need something then, the boy needs to learn to respect his elders. I am Yusef, by the way.” Yusef says and puts a black cape over Eli’s shoulders and chest before wetting his hair and starting to cut.  
  
Eli watches locks of hair fall onto the dirty ground beneath him and despite the discomfort of the situation, being touched by one of the man who did this to him so intimately, he feels strangely calm as if he is getting rid of a heavy burden.  
  
Still he feels Yusef’s breath in his neck, recognises the way these hands have felt before and shivers slightly when the man leans in to spread shaving cream over his face.  
  
_Eli, focus._ Says Mantis in his mind and reassuringly reaches out to him through their link. _I will take care of the boy and the other costumers. You take your time with the... scum._ Eli practically buries himself in Mantis’ words and clears his throat, wipes a line of cold sweat from his forehead.  
  
_Don’t kill the boy._ He thinks. _He can’t defend himself yet._  
  
“Not used to the heat, huh?” Yusef grins and busies himself with shaping his sideburns. “The temperatures will become more bearable soon – summer is over now.”  
  
“I don’t mind it.” Eli clips and looks into Yusef’s eyes through the mirror. “I’ve lived here before for a few years.”  
  
The barber does not seem to notice his implication and just nods understandingly, continuing his work. It feels surreal to admit, but Eli _likes_ what he is doing – it feels good to be groomed, clean, fresh; to get rid of all that hair that only binds him to a time of his life he does not want to think about anymore.  
  
“Ah, military I suppose? You’re American, akhi?”  
  
Eli feels distant and out of focus when he reaches up to grab Yusef by the wrist.  
  
“British, actually… .” he answers quietly.  
  
And then, _finally_ , recognition sparks in the man’s eyes as they widen in panic and disbelief – he tries to shout but Eli is faster and grabs the razor from his hand, cuts into his face and mouth, uncaring of their surroundings or any potential witnesses.  
  
“Took you long enough.” He spits and pushes Yusef to the ground, it is not hard at all since his opponent is barely resisting, just staring at Eli in shock like he is the prophet himself.  
  
Yusef tries to speak but when he opens his mouth he is grabbed by the chin and has his tongue cut out in one crude slice. It is ugly – there is blood spilling everywhere and instead of choking on it like a good boy Yusef decides to plead and wail with the most pathetic gurgling sounds. He grabs Eli’s leg through his kaftan and stains the fabric with blood.  
  
Eli knows what that face means; _please don’t hurt my son_.  
  
He kicks him off and stands over him, watching Yusef gurgle and make guttural noises – the man still manages to raise his hands defensively but Eli squats down and gets out his knife, the razor will not do for this.  
  
Apparently you can still scream without a tongue, because oh does Yusef scream as Eli cuts away his fingers, chops them off one by one and shoves the last one deep into the other man’s throat and watches him try to spit it out for a while.  
  
He faintly can feel a buzz of fear from the back, most likely the boy cowering in a dark corner with Mantis’ looming presence swallowing him up and just daring him to leave his hiding place.  
  
_Let me kill him._ Mantis thinks. _It would be the proper punishment for his father to watch his son die in front of him._

Eli shakes his head. “No, let him live. He won’t have a peaceful life knowing his father died like this – for _this_.” Gesturing to himself, he switches to English again.  
  
“Just show him what his father _did_ , Mantis.”  
  
-  
  
They leave the barber shop listening to the barely audible cries of the boy on their way out.  
  
-

“This suits you.” Mantis says, leaning against the wall of their little rented room as he watches Eli wash the blood off his face and arms. “You feel like yourself again.”  
  
He does not reply, just scrubs his skin clean with a nail brush until it turns red again. Eli sighs when he feels Mantis step closer to put a gloved hand on his arm and squeeze lightly.  
  
_Stop it. You have done well._

Eli drops the brush and turns, not looking at Mantis face through his mask, but at his terribly skinny arms instead. He is losing weight.

“So,” he breathes. “where’s the next one?”  
  
“You need a break, Eli.” Mantis says out loud says and Eli feels that familiar irritation flare up again.  
  
“What I need is the location of the next guy so I can find and kill him, Mantis. Now let me go.” He makes for the exit, brushing past Mantis and his pretentious little act of understanding.

“You’re obviously not ready for that yet, today was enough proof for me.”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eli stops at the door and glares at Mantis through the dimly lit space between them. “You just said yourself that I did well.”  
  
“Yes.” Mantis makes a thoughtful sound as he lays back on their bed. “But for our next target you need to not shy back from killing a child – he has five of them. Still young, too.”  
  
Eli hesitates for a second.  
  
“… alright. I _am_ ready – I will do it.”  
  
“I thought for you there is no honour in killing someone who can not fight back? Or am I mistaken?” Between his mocking tone and demeanour Mantis sounds mildly surprised.  
  
“I have no honour – they took it all from me, remember?” Despite the tinted lenses of his mask, Mantis’ eyes seem to almost glow in the dark as Eli speaks to him in a low and hushed voice. “I’ll _have_ to do this to get it back then, don’t you agree?”  
  
For once Mantis does not say anything, even keeps quiet for a long while – but Eli knows he has won when he settles down to sleep and feels the cool plastic of his friend’s mask press against his shoulder, fingers digging into his sides possessively.

-

This time, of course, there is more blood.  
  
The wife and husband go down quickly, though Eli takes his sweet time with the man as Mantis idly taps the bloody eyeball on the ground with his foot. The television is still on.

 _Don’t be_ _to be too loud, we are in the middle of the city after all._  
  
“Keep them quiet, then.” Eli orders and does one last deep cut on the man’s bare stomach for good measure, blood and intestine following. “They’ve seen too much.”  
  
The two eldest children, probably around the ages of seven and nine, daughters, are tied to the wall by invisible bounds, their eyes wide in fear and filled with tears.  
  
He doesn’t like to admit it, but Eli is thankful that the other kids are still fast asleep in their beds in the next room.  
  
“!ابعد" One of them cries as he approaches, combat knife still in his soiled hands.  
  
".أسف …but your baba was a monster, you know.” Eli says and raises the knife to the throat of the girl who spoke. Her little face makes him hesitate – he does not feel any sympathy for her or her sister, no pity or compassion – but still he can not bring himself to kill her or even press the knife against her skin firm enough to draw blood.  
  
“Shit.” he mumbles.

 _I can make them forget_ _if you can not do it_ _._ Mantis offers. _Though I can not guarantee they will still be… functioning afterwards._  
  
“… do it.” Eli turns and mumbles, then looks back at the girls. “. ...نوما عميقا" 

Mantis approaches, puts two fingers on each of the girls’ temples and concentrates, Eli can feel the surge of energy coming off him. Then after a few moments the two drop unceremoniously to the floor, eyes empty and drool running down their chins.  
  
“… .” Mantis, steps back and shakes his head. “I apologise.”  
  
Eli wants to be mad at him, but he is painfully aware that Mantis did try to keep the damage at minimum, realising he is mostly discontent with his own ability to act and frustrated that he has shown to be weak once again.  
  
_Th_ _ere_ _is no life_ _to live for them_ _._ He thinks as he kneels down and does slit their throats after all, a mercy kill, he justifies to himself.  
  
Mantis is at his side, touching and holding him through their minds on the way out of the city, but Eli still feels pathetically distant and far away at the same time.

-  
  
“Did you do it on purpose?” Eli finally asks as they camp out underneath the stars in the middle of the desert. The night air is cool on his face and Mantis who has come prepared for neither heat or cold is wedged against him in the restricted space of their jeep.

It takes Mantis a while to think about that question.

"Perhaps, I can’t really say.”  
  
Eli turns his head to him and pulls Mantis a little closer, despite his blistering anger. “Yes you did. You wanted me to go through with it, you made it so they conveniently had to die.”  
  
“You never used to have much trouble with these things before,” Mantis muses. “but this time it is just too personal for you to handle.”  
  
“Don’t say that, I’ve already killed half of them in less than a week – you make it sound like you have to force me to this when it was my idea in the first place.” Eli sits up a little and places his fist on his chest. “I _want_ this. It keeps me alive.”  
  
Smiling behind his mask, Mantis pulls him back down into that wonderfully false embrace. “And I will do what you want – that is why others have to die, Eli.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “.مساء الخير" - "Good afternoon."  
> "!ابعد" - "Go away!"  
> ".أسف " - "I'm sorry."  
> “. ...نوما عميقا" - "Sleep tight... ."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eli is warm, mantis has a drink

The next day they leave for the country – Eli behind the wheel and Mantis navigating while reading a map of the area and playing around with the compass.  
  
“If you keep doing that we’ll end up in the middle of nowhere, yknow.” Eli grumbles and looks over to the compass needle spinning around wildly inside of its casing.  
  
Mantis gives him a look and the needle follows, pointing accusingly in Eli’s direction.  
  
“We already _are_ in the middle of nowhere.” He turns back to the map. “And besides, I know where we are going – you better keep your eyes on the road.”  
  
Aside from the apparent lack of a road Eli begrudgingly follows that advice and keeps forcing their old and used M151 through the dirt and sand ahead of them. Even if Mantis has offered to pay for an entirely new vehicle, Eli does not really want to rely on him and his shady FBI money (which Ocelot had somehow managed to secure) too much and opted out for the more affordable option.  
  
Which turns out to be a mistake – after they have managed half of their planned route the car breaks down and they are left to rest in the excruciating afternoon sun, Mantis lying down in the hot sand basking in what little shade their creaking jeep offers.  
  
Eli pokes his head out from under the engine hood and smears some black oil over his cheek while trying to wipe the sweat off his tanned skin. “You could just help me, I know you could just use your powers to fix this.”  
  
“Oh, please. I wouldn’t want to devoid you of this little manly ego-boost.” Pulling his leather jacket further over his face, Mantis ‘tsk’s at him and draws a pattern in the air with his fingers that suspiciously resembles a frowny face.

-

When the jeep finally ‘is purring nicely’ again – as Eli puts it, even though the sound actually resembles a slightly pained groan more than anything else – they drive all the way through the evening and most of the night until they reach a rather hilly and bumpy region as they get closer to the mountains.  
  
“The goatherds have their farms right at the foot of this mountain over there.” Mantis points at the wall of black cutting through the horizon and pats Eli’s shoulder. “Our man should be close – they lead their herds up into the hills at dawn, so all we have to do is wait for him to come to us.”

“How do we know it’s him?”  
  
Mantis narrows his eyes, obviously grinning sinisterly behind his mask. “I can hear his _guilt_ from here already.”  
  
Eli figures it is better not to ask, discomfort and tiredness overwhelming him eventually as he drops into a dreamless pit of sleep.

-

“I just don’t understand why you are doing this, it won’t benefit you or _him_ in any way I could imagine. You of all people should really be better educated on psychology to know that confronting him with his trauma like this will only make it worse – don’t you always lecture me about this kind of stuff?”  
  
Mantis feels a gust of air hit his cheek but does not look up, even as he is touched.  
  
“Are you even listening? Agent?”  
  
“I did not ask for your opinion on the matter, Wilson.”  
  
The man laughs heartily as he sits down next to him. “Oh, you practically were begging for it! Now let me order you a drink and tell me all about what _you_ will personally gain from this, hm?”  
  
It is uncomfortable to be engulfed in that smell of self-abandonment and cheap cologne, so Mantis slides his chair a little bit to the left to have some more space to himself. He bites his lip.  
  
“We’ll have some tequila, please – be generous with the lime, my dear friend here likes it bitter.”  
  
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Mantis mumbles dismissively before dipping his finger in the salt and licking it off before sucking on the lime slice, juice running down his chin and burning in his stitches.  
  
Silence turns out to be a good drinking partner, it seems, so they just sit there and chug down the alcohol – one, two, then three bottles - until finally Mantis feels loosened up enough to consider listening to what Wilson has to say.  
  
A cold hand on his arm, thick greasy, fingers caressing his skin through his clothing.

“So you are using him to have your own personal little vendetta on these people, are you not?” Wilson leans back in his chair and smirks, watching Mantis hide his face in his glass. “I understand that of course – your genetic egoism, the need to control other people to create the illusion of being in control of yourself? Am no stranger to that, I’m afraid.”

“I am doing this for him. He feels better seeing the people who did this to him die – he needs it.”  
  
“Or do _you_ need to see him see _them_? Come on, agent! We both know you only ever have your own best interest at heart.”

“Are you projecting yourself onto me again?”  
  
Wilson chuckles darkly and licks some salt off his knuckles. “How can I project onto someone who has become the same person as me? Oh, but isn’t that what you always wanted – to be your own person? Look where it got you!”  
  
Mantis shrinks down in his chair, hiding his aching head in his hands. “Shut up-”  
  
“You abandoned him to carry off into your childish fantasies, so selfish and prideful and all that, only to come back into his life to use him again – after you realised your little plan could never work out like you wanted it to… .” He shakes his head. “Truly pathetic, don’t you think?”  
  
“He needs me– he _wanted_ this! It is the only way we can go back to normal and how he can become happy again after everything that-”  
  
“Oh, Agent. Have you really fallen so far that you believe your own lies by now?” Wilson’s breath is moist and revolting as it hits Mantis’ face when he leans in to pry his shaking hands away. “He has _never_ been happy with you.”  
  
“N-no! Don’t you- don’t you dare!! That’s not –“  
  
The embrace feels wrong, _false_ – like a trap filled with rotten food that only lures in the most despicable vermin from depths unknown. But Mantis can not move, destined to persist like this, the taste of bitterness and salt running down his face and dripping into nothing.

-  
  
Eli wakes to the sound of faint whimpering and rolls out of his sleeping bag, fingers already tight on his P226 as he carefully leans over to look down and underneath his seat.  
  
“Mantis?”

He does not know how to react, really. The nauseating stink of fear and confusion coming off his friend does not fade as Eli crouches down next to him to touch his side slightly.

Recoiling, Mantis tries to crawl away without much success, hyperventilating heavily behind his mask and grunting in frustration when Eli moves in front of him to keep him from fleeing.

“Take that off, come on.” Eli whispers and sits back to give him a bit more space, still unconsciously holding on to his gun. “You can barely breath like that.”

“Nn- No don't, I-“ Mantis does not get to finish because Eli wraps an arm around him to work on the clasps of his mask, undoing them slowly until it comes off and reveals Mantis' pale and tear stained face.

“I- Are you okay?” The question is useless of course, they both know it is not the case but between Eli's lack of experience when dealing with a situation so familiar to himself and the overwhelming shared emotions between them there is nothing left but this little charade of comforting unity.

_My head- He is inside my head! My mask, please... ._

Eli pauses and stares at Mantis, clinging to him in his arms.

“Concentrate on me? There's no one around, you don't need the mask. Just try to focus.”

Mantis whines and presses his face against Eli's shoulder. _He is here. It is all lies, Eli, do not listen to him. Oh god-_

“It’s just me and you.” Eli tries for an unconvincing chuckle. “Trust me – I think I've had my brain wired to yours long enough to notice if there was someone else inside there.”

As well meaning and comforting that statement is supposed to be, it only ends up pulling Mantis into deeper despair at the thought of all _this_ being his own work, fault. Eli is not well equipped to deal with these hysterics beyond what he has learned from his own episodes and pushes through his useless frustration to be of help somehow – cradling Mantis to his chest and brushing his fingers through sandy, dirty curls.

“You’re freezing, aren't you?” He mumbles and pulls down his sleeping bag from the bench to wrap it around them. “I kept telling you to dress properly.”

 _... I did not anticipate the desert being so cold_. Mantis thinks sheepishly and wipes some snot on Eli's collar.

 They are silent for a while – Mantis breathing calming down enough for him to be able to speak again, though he refrains from it for now, anxious over what Eli has to say to all of this.

“I don't think I've seen you this scared since we were kids.” He eventually muses, not daring to sit back and make eye contact with Mantis. “This is about what happened while I was- it is about that psycho from the FBI, isn't it?”

“I- yes. But that doesn't matter now.” Mantis drags his lips over Eli's neck, mumbling quietly against his skin. “I am here to help you get revenge, just as it always should have been.”

Eli stares out into the dark mountains, the slightest hint of a rising sun being preluded by colourful clouds on the horizon.

“Is that all you want from life, though? To make _me_ happy?” He asks, nothing but unknowing innocence behind his words.

Mantis grimaces, his face not visible to Eli from this angle, before leaning up to give his friend a drawn out, chaste kiss. “Life has never wanted me either, so I do not ask for anything in return.” 

He waits for Eli to reciprocate and when he finally does Mantis speaks against, almost into his mouth: 

“I have decided to just take what I want from it.” 

- 

They head out into the mountains as dawn hits – Mantis leading the way, floating just a few inches over the rocky terrain as Eli climbs and follows behind him. Judging by the ever increasing bleating echoing through the hills they are getting closer to the goats and when the _smell_ hits Eli realises they are right behind the elevation in front of him. 

 _Is it just him?_ He asks. 

 _Yes. The fool always goes out_ _alone_ _, he won't defend himself either – has neither skills nor weapons to do so._  

Eli quietly wonders what possibly could persuade a man to join a radical group of insurgents only to later retire to become a goatherd of all things. But he tries not to let himself be too distracted as he follows Mantis' directions and slowly gets closer to follow his target down a dirt path. Being hyper aware of his surroundings he spots a few insects, a fat lizard basking on a rock in the morning sun and a bird of prey circling the skies – but even all these impressions leave him cold as Mantis' mind pushes against his own to braid them into one and push him forwards. 

It all happens quicker than he had hoped for – Eli jumps the man, pushes him into the sandy dirt and hold his knife to his throat. 

“!يا إلاهي"

“He can't help you now.” Eli spits into his face and pulls the guy up by his keffiyeh to force him to look at him. “So, do you remember me?” 

The goatherd just cries, he does not even shout or yell or try to argue – silent fat tears run down his face as he nods and accepts his fate.

Eli, too, remembers this coward.

“You never hurt me.” He finds, but before the boy or Mantis can disagree he elaborates: “... but you never _stopped_ them either.”

-

It is fast, efficient, Eli does not make him suffer – their target is barely out of his teens and does not even try to defend himself. There is not any fun in taking his life, despite it being necessary.   
  
As they leave his corpse in the dirt, the boy's goats surround him and if Eli did not know any better he would simply assume their deafening wails are an expression of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "!يا إلاهي" = oh my god
> 
> if youre familiar with aireyv's white diamond series maybe you recognise this weeks target :) i couldnt help but borrow him, sorry


End file.
